Indiscretions
by Handwithquill
Summary: The team takes a job in Seacouver, which brings certain things to light.Will be F/M Crossover with Highlander and the title is shamelessly stolen from the second to last episode of that series
1. Chapter 1

::AN- Before you start reading, I want to say that while there is an OC in here, the story will NEVER be from her POV. All but one section of this story is from Face's POV. The one that's not is from Murdock's. The only reason she is in a scene it to provide exposition about the Highlander universe, or background for other characters. I don't have too good a grasp on Methos, so I couldn't use him and I didn't like any of the other canon Highlander characters for that part. Also, a bit of head canon for me is that Rebecca survived the episode 'Legacy'::

Face crouched just inside the sliding door of the van, which was parked next to a warehouse. Hannibal was standing just outside the fence around the warehouse. Murdock and BA were inside liberating the last of the equipment Boss needed for his plan. He had been standing with the boss, but it had started to rain. He knew that Washington State was considered the rainiest place in the country, but Seacouver was the rainiest place in the State!

The gate opened and BA bulky frame appeared, tool belts hanging off his arms. In his hands was a box of explosives. Murdock emerged next, arms full of metal. Hannibal took the box from BA and handed it off to Face, who carefully placed it in the back of the van. Murdock was still a few steps away from the van when he stopped, cocked his head and stared across the lot.

"Uh-oh, that's-that's not good!" he nearly tossed his armload into the van, running around to the other side.

"Watch it, Fool."

"Murdock! What's wrong?" Face jumped out of the way of the metal and followed the pilot, the other two suit. The pilot ran to the lot across the road. Stopping just outside of a circle of light created by the streetlights, he raised his hand, ran it through his hair and squeezed the back of his neck, just as metallic clanking rang out.

"WHAT THE HELL!" BA yelled as they caught up to Murdock. There was a man and a woman in the circle of light. They rushed towards each other, swords-swords!-held high. They weren't playing. The man took a vicious swipe at the woman, sword raking across her stomach, white shirt turning red. They watched in stunned silence for a minute. "We should stop them." Face and Hannibal nodded.

"But which one?" Face asked. Murdock's gaze never wavered from the combatants. It wasn't until the barrel of BA's gun passed his head the he reacted.

"NO! BA, don't!" he screamed, reaching out and tried to push the gun down. The scream echoed around the lot. The fighters stopped, swords locked, to stare at them. The woman looked shocked, the man grinned.

"Oh, we have an audience, but it means I don't need you anymore." the male fighter said, reaching to the small of his back, he pulled out a dagger and thrust it into the woman's chest. That seemed to make up BA's mind as he fired at the man. Three bullets enter his chest, but amazingly, he only staggered back. Sirens could be heard in the distance, the rent-a-cops for the construction company were coming. The man cocked his head, smirking, "Later." he turned and ran into the shadows.

Murdock was the first to react. He ran for the woman, sliding on his knees the last foot. The others followed him. BA slapped his hand away as he reached for the hilt of the dagger.

"You crazy, man!" BA yelled, "You know better than that."

"Bosco, Let me." He pushed the big guy away so hard that the mechanic fell back. He yanked the dagger out and tossed it way. The woman gasped, coughing up blood.

"Hon? Whennes yow hir" she said. Face couldn't place her accent. Then realized it was because she wasn't speaking English. At least he didn't think so as Murdock responded in the same language. It sounded a bit like he should know it, but he could only catch a word here and there that sounded like badly pronounced English. The woman coughed again, then was still.

"See, I told you." BA said, but Murdock ignored him.

"Help me." He grasped the woman's arms "Bosco, get her legs. Face, the van's still open, right?"

"What? You're not putting a dead body in my van!"

"We have to go, they're coming." The sirens were getting louder.

"Do it, Sergeant!" Hannibal ordered. "We'll figure this out later." Face took off, grabbing the dagger on the way to the van. He shoved boxes and metal out of the way, glad there was already a tarp down.

"Hannibal, get those." The pilot said, nodding to the sword and coat that lay near the woman. They had just lifted the body into the van when breaks squealed. The rent-a-cops arrived. They jumped out of their car, guns drawn. Murdock jumped into the van; BA was setting her legs down when the rent-a-cops opened fire. BA jerked and fell forward.

"Shit!" Face yelled, "Get him in!" Murdock jumped out and pushed the mechanic in, sliding the door shut as Hannibal stomped on the gas.

"How bad is it?" He asked from the driver's seat, glancing in the rear-view.

"Not good." Face's hands were bloody from pressing on the wounds. He didn't know what they were going to do. They couldn't exactly go to a hospital and they were too far away from Dr. Maggie. His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a hand smack against flesh.

"Come on, come on, WAKE UP!" He looked up, worried that BA had lost consciousness. But what he saw was Murdock smack the woman again. Despite the seriousness of the situation he couldn't help but comment.

"I think that ones dead, buddy, try the other one." Then fell back as the woman gasped and sitting up.

"BLOODY HELL! That Fucking HURTS! I'm gonna-" what ever she said was lost to Face as she stared speaking that language again. Murdock grabbed her shoulder, shaking her, getting her attention.

"Do you still know Dr. Adams? Is he still a doctor?" he asked.

"Yes and no, but yes." She said looking at BA, before grabbing the coat beside her. Reaching into the pocket she pulled out a phone and hit the speed dial. "Come on, pick up! Damn it Adam, pick up! Hey, it's me, do you have your doctors bag with you. Good…No, they can't…Yeah, it's looks bad. Where are you? Prefect, we'll meet you out front." She hung up. "Turn here." She told Hannibal.

She gave them directions until they pulled into the parking lot of a bar with a neon light proclaiming it 'JOE'S'. There was a man waiting outside. He was tall, lean, wearing a trench coat and holding a doctors bag. Murdock opened the sliding door. He climbed in, took stock of the situation.

"I'm going to need some where clean?" His voice was English.

"My cabin." The woman said as she climbed up to the passenger seat to give Hannibal more direction. He followed them out of the city, down a long drive that lead to a cabin set at the base of the mountain. Between the five of them, they got BA inside and into one of the bedrooms. The Doctor shutting the door on them all.

The main floor to the cabin was open, the large living room led into the impressive looking kitchen. Murdock leaned back against the kitchen island, arms wrapped around himself, staring at the closed door. The woman threw the retrieved coat and sword onto the couch and approached him, placing a hand on his arm.

"He's going to be okay, right?"

"You know he is, Hon. Adam's just gone through school again, so he's as up to date as possible. Come on, lets wash your hands." She pulled him over to the sink.

Face watched them, conversing softly in that language. There was something about the way they interacted that set him on edge. It was obvious that they knew each other, but in the ten years that they had known Murdock, he had never mentioned her. He took their place at the sink, washing away BA's blood, glancing at the closed door, hoping that this Dr. Adams would be able to save Bosco.

On his way back to the couch, he took in the photos in the room. There was one photo that really caught his attention because Murdock was in it. That wonderful lopsided smile of his on his lips, playful sparkle in his eyes. His arms were up along the back of a restaurant booth, and tucked under each arm was a woman. On the left was the woman who was currently holding him on the couch. On the other side was a gorgeous redhead. Both were leaning in to him, contented smiles on their faces.

There were so many thoughts running through his head that he was glad when the bedroom door open and the doctor walked out. Hannibal shot up.

"How is he?"

"Okay, for right now." The doctor said, going over to the sink. "I managed to take all but one of the bullets out, but to get that one, he's going to need to under something strong. I can get the supplies I need and do it tomorrow. He should be fine until then."

"Thank you Dr..."

"Adam Pierson." He said, drying his hands and holding one out. Hannibal took it.

"Thank you Dr. Pierson."

"Just Adam." He walked over to the fridge, opened it, then closed it with a sigh. "No beer. Why do you never have any beer?"

"Why do you keep looking in there when you know I don't have any beer?

"How about we finish introductions," Face said. "then maybe someone would like to explain what the hell was going on at the construction site?"

"The kids right. I'd like to know why I got pulled away for Joe's, where they have beer, to here, where you don't."

"I just got back from Rebecca's. I wasn't expecting you to invade and pillage my liquor stash for another week!"

"I haven't pillaged for a few millennium! I work strictly behind the scenes now."

"Right, is that what you're doing with Macleod?" she turned back to Face. "So, introductions," she frowned, "Aren't really needed, except to say that my name is Kyleen McShane. Hon's already told us all about the three of you."

"Hon?"

"Yeah," she passed her hand through Murdock's hair. Face bit his lip to keep the frown off his face. They were close, closer then people who didn't mention each other to their very best friend. Murdock went on leave by himself sometimes, he never said where he was going. Always seemed happier when he got back, they had always joked that maybe he was meeting someone, a girlfriend.

"So the construction site." Face asked, cutting that thought off. "Because that was some weird shit. And what the hell happened with that dagger, 'cause I couldn't have sworn that it went into your heart." He eyed the bloody spot on her shirt.

Kyleen sighed, meeting Murdock eyes, holding the gaze for a few seconds, before he nodded. "It did."

"It couldn't have, your still alive."

"This will be hard to believe, but I'm still alive because I'm immortal."

"Yeah, right" Face snorted.

"It's true, Facey. I've known Kyleen since I was three. She helped raise me when Mama was getting sick. And took me to my Grandparents after Mama died."

"Hannibal?"

"I don't know, Kid. We both saw the dagger. It went in cleanly, straight through the heart, but she's here now. And Murdock says it's true." He shrugged.

"Okay, so you're immortal, you can never die? What was with the swords?"

"Immortal is a bit of a misnomer." Adam said. He had found something suitable alcoholic and perched himself on an armchair. "It's what we call ourselves, because it's what you mortals understand the best."

"Wait, you too?"

"Yes, me too." he rolled his eyes "we don't age and can survive most of what would kill you. Gunshots, stabbings, broken necks, poison, etc. We will seem to 'die' as our bodies recover, but will wake up a little while later. Recover time varies for immortal to immortal based on type and frequency of 'killing'"

"You don't age?" Hannibal and Murdock laughed, knowing why that was what he would ask about. Face eyed Kyleen up and down. He would guess that she was around 30 "So, in 70 years you'll be 100 years old, but still look like this?" this time Murdock and Adam howled with laughter.

"Oh, to only be a hundred! So young!" Adam said sagely, then burst into giggles.

"Oh, Facey, don't you know it's wrong to ask a lady her age." Kyleen blinked at him.

"You've got the right idea, I'll still look like this in seventy years, but I won't be a hundred, I'll be...856." It was Face's turn to blink.

"You're..."

"786 years old."

"And the swords?" the Lieutenant asked, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that the woman in front of him was born before people knew that the north American land mass existed.

"Well, there is one kind of wound that we don't recover from" she said, "and that's beheading. Lose you head, The Game's over for you."

"That doesn't really explain why you and that guy were attacking each other with swords."

"Slow on the uptake, isn't he?" Adam commented.

"Only always," Hannibal laughed, "Kid, swords are great for beheading."

"I know that!" Face fumed. "I meant why were you trying to kill each other?"

"That is a MUCH more complicated discussion which I think should be had at a later time. I'm going to check on my patient, and then if somebody could drive me back to Joe's, I'll get my car and get the supplies I need for tomorrow."

"I'll drive you." Hannibal said.

"I think we all should get some sleep." Kyleen said standing. "Colonel Smith, I'm sure you'll appreciate taking the second bed in the room with your Sergeant. Lieutenant Peck, feel free to use the other bedroom down here." As they said their 'goodnights', Face clenched his teeth as Kyleen and Murdock climbed the stairs to the single bedroom loft.


	2. Chapter 2

Face stared out the kitchen window. He was the first one up and had snooped around in the cabinets to find the coffee that was brewing in the machine. The sun was just cresting over the mountains when a door opened quietly. He turned to see Hannibal easing it shut again.

"How's Bosco?"

"Alright. Adam said that he'd be back before eight today to take the other bullet out. We also stopped by an all night drugstore and picked up a couple of prescription for him. I changed the bandages already and they looked good." The coffee maker beeped, "I ran by where we were staying and packed up our things, they're still in the van." Face nodded, glad to have something to change into, he felt grimy after sleeping in his clothes. Fixing his own cup, he followed Hannibal out onto the porch. He sat next to the boss on the top step, hands wrapped around the mug to keep them warm in the early spring morning.

It was so different up here then what he was use to. The cool air felt strange as he took a deep breath. And while there wasn't any noise that he was use to, it wasn't quiet. Leaves rustling together, hopefully distant animals could be heard forgoing, no pressure to get up, get going. He never believed it when people said it, but it was peaceful.

But not peaceful enough to stop the thoughts running around in his head. Even though he saw it with his own eyes, he wasn't sure he believed the whole 'immortal' thing. People who lived forever and apparently ran around chopping each others heads off, who would believe that! Even more than Murdock, who always had a grain of truth is his fantasy, saying it was true, was the Boss' acceptance of it. He wished BA was alright just to have someone to talk sense to.

"Boss?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you really believe this 'immortal' thing?"

"You still don't?"

"I don't know. I know what we saw last night, but it's...it's just too far fetched."

"It's defiantly out of the ordinary."

"Why do you believe it?"

"You've been a soldier how long, Kid? Seen a lot of weird shit, right?" Face nodded. "Well, I've been a soldier for a lot longer, seen ever weirder shit. And this, well it explains a few things that I've never had a good explanation for."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, back when I was a fresh faced and just entered Basic..."

"And the dinosaurs were roaming the earth." Face interjected.

"Hey, watch it." Hannibal cuffed the back of Face's head, an indulgent smile on his lips. "Anyway, I had this CO, Major Wells. All through Basic he was watching me, I thought that for some reason he didn't like me and was looking for a reason to kick me out. But a few days before Basic was over, he calls me into his office, sits me down and starts telling me about the Rangers. About how hard and grueling it is but also about how it's all worth it. Recruited me into his unit."

"This sounds familiar." This time Hannibal's hand ruffles Face's hair before sliding down and squeezing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I leaned a lot from Major Wells. Not just guns, drills, and plans, things that a soldier does, but what it means to be one, things I've tried to pass on to you boys."

"You have, Boss. There's more pride for us in saying that we're on Hannibal Smith's team then even saying that we're Rangers." He leaned over bumping his shoulder into Hannibal's. When he looked over, the boss' eyes looked shiny.

"Yes, well," Hannibal cleared his throat. "On our first mission, Major Wells was hit. I knew it was serious because he stumbled back into me, but he got up and continued the mission. Afterwards, when I asked him, he said it was just a scratch, but I had seen the amount of blood on his uniform. It happened time and again until someone emptied a mag into his chest. We didn't have a funeral, though, because the body disappeared from the morgue. Do you remember that join op we did with the British, when Russ asked me if I was okay because I kept staring at their Major, William Nelson?" Face nodded. "He was the spitting image, right down to the scar along his left eye, of Major Wells."

"You think he was an immortal?"

"As I said, it would explain a lot." They were quiet, coffee now cool enough to drink. "So, why don't we move pass this and onto what is really bothering you."

"Huh? What do you mean, Boss?"

"The immortal thing is a lot to take in, yeah, but that's not what has you up this early. It's Kyleen. You're upset that Murdock's never mentioned her." Faces looked down into his cup, watching the unmixed creamer make a swirling pattern.

"I don't understand it, Boss? It's obvious that she's important to him. We're important to him as well, right? Don't most people want those important to them to meet and get along?"

"First off, we have never been normal, Murdock least of all. I've known you since you were nineteen, Kid, but how much have you told me about your childhood? I know that you keep in touch with at least one person from the orphanage, but you've never tried to introduce us."

"That's different."

"Why, because you had a crappy childhood? Bosco and I had relatively normal ones, how much have we shared? We've never met BA's mom, and there's no doubting how much he loves her." Face sighed, not being able to deny that. He stared up at the mountain. Hannibal took a few sips of coffee, letting Face think for a while. When he thought that Face was ready, he continued. "Are you really upset that he never mentioned her or are you more upset by that."

He pointed. Face followed his finger to the trail coming out of the forest. Apparently Face was wrong in his assumption that he was the first one awake as Kyleen was running down the trail. She had a wide grin on her face and Murdock's hat on her head. Murdock appeared behind her, running full speed. A squeal rang out as he got to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up, and swinging her around. He plucked the hat off her head and returned it to his. That damn mysterious language drifting to them as the pilot set his captive down. The smile on Murdock's face was bright and it usually made Face smile in return, filling his chest with warmth, but this time it made his chest clench as it was directed at the woman in he pilot's arms.

"I'm going for a run." Face stood and descended the stairs to get his bag out of the van. As such he didn't see Murdock's smile fall as he walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

The need to regulate his breathing and constant pounding of his feet cleared Face's mind. It also let him come to a, _small_, conclusion about the way he was acting. Murdock was his best friend, the best he'd ever had. Thinking back through all the years they had known each other, there was only one time, shortly after they met, that he tried to con the pilot. Murdock had seen through it, turning it back on him. He'd always tried to include Murdock in the cons after that. He had thought that Murdock had told him everything in his life that was important, not that Face had reciprocated, but why hadn't he mentioned a girlfriend? He had always thought that someday he and Murdock would-.

He cut that thought off. It was irrelevant now.

Coming to the path that would lead him back to the house, he saw a grouping of boulders. Murdock was perched on top, staring into the forest canopy. He slowed as he approached and stood staring at them, looking for handholds. At the top, he accepted the bottle of water that the pilot handed him.

"Facey?" Murdock asked after a few minutes of quiet. "Are you mad at me?"

"What! No! I'm-I'm just-" he sighed, falling back to stare at the sky. "I'm just being selfish, as usual. Who you know and who you sleep with is no concern of mine."

"Sleep with?" he asked, confused. "I'm not sleeping with anyone."

"But last night." Face leaned up on his elbows. "You went upstairs with Kyleen." Murdock blinked at him, before doubling over with laughter.

"Face, I know this will be a difficult concept for you, but a man and a woman CAN sleep in the same bed with out it being sexual."

"I know that!" Face said petulantly, sitting up. "But this morning, the way you looked at each other, it was like...it was like you loved each other."

'We do, Face. I love Kyleen and she loves me, but it's not romantic. It's like the was we love Bosco and Hannibal" he paused, bit his lip, "It's like the way you and I love each other, right?"

"Yeah." Face closed his eyes, deep breath in, hold, let it out slowly. Resigning himself to being Murdock's friend, and just his friend. "Yeah, buddy, just like that."

"Besides," Murdock went on, staring straight ahead, "She is my Father." It was a testament to how use to he was of strange things coming out of Murdock's mouth that he just nodded before the statement fully processed and he snapped his head around.

"WHAT?"

"When I was a child and woke up in the middle of the night, I use to crawl into bed with her and Mama all the time. Of course, I was much older before I realized what they were doing, but all the townsfolk thought they were married and that she was my father."

"Um...huh?" Murdock smiled at the utterly confused look Face wore.

"You know that I didn't have a father, right? Not at first. Mama lived on the outskirts of town. She was unmarried and had a child, which didn't set too well with the townsfolk. After we met Kyleen when I was three, she agreed to let the townsfolk think she was a man and that she was my father. That 'Kyle' had been away of business and had just returned. It was a few months later that she started sleeping in the bed with Mama."

"They believed it? Because she looks pretty womanly to me."

"People believe what they want." Murdock shrugged. "You know that. And the town never would have thought that a woman would do that. Especially after she beat the town champ in strong man competition.

"How did you meet her?"

"When I killed her." Murdock leaned back onto his hands. "There was a barn on the edge of our farm. It was the home to a lot of stray animals, and on the roof was a bird's nest. I climbed up too see it. The Mama bird was teaching the babies to fly by tossing them over the edge. I thought it looked fun, so I jumped. Kyleen was just passing though, coming out of the forest she saw me the same time Mama screamed. Kyleen caught me, but when we hit the ground, I heard a crack. Mama gathered me to her. Making sure I was alright, but I wanted to know why the stranger wasn't moving. Mama kept saying that it would be alright, that we'd figure something out. We heard a gasp and saw Kyleen sitting up, turning her head from side to side.

'I can explain.' She said.

'No need." Mama told her, 'You saved my son, that's all that matters. Please, come into the house. It's midday, the least I can do to thank you is share a meal with you.'

'If you're sure, I would like that. Is the little one alright?'

I unburied myself from Mama, 'I'm alright.' I told her, 'Are you hurt?' I asked her. She laughed.

'I'm perfectly alright, youngling. My name is Kyleen, what's yours?'

'HM.'

'Does that stand for something?" I didn't say anything, but I think I might have blushed a little as she laughed again. 'I find out soon, I think."

We went into the house. Kyleen stayed with us for two day, helping out around the farm. I didn't know at the time that Mama was already sick. A few days later was market day in town, we split up to get the shopping done faster. At one stall, the owner was saying bad things about Mama, I don't remember what was said anymore, but I stared yelling at the man. Telling him not to talk about my Mama that way and that she was the nicest person in the world. Next thing I know, I'm lifted into the air and into someone's arms.

'I agree with this honorable young man. Alana is the sweetest most Nobel women I've ever met.' Kyleen said. 'And in the future, sir, I would ask that you refrain from speaking about my wife such to my son. Come on, my Honorable Man, let's find your Mama.' We found Mama and everyone in the town believed what Kyleen was my father. Murdock stood suddenly, looking out towards the road. "Doc Adams is coming." He said, scrambling off the boulder. Face followed at a slower pace. 


	4. Chapter 4

When they got back to the house, Adam had just pulled up.

"James," he said, getting out of the car, "I'm going to have to do this the old fashion way, so I'm going to need your help." Murdock nodded, taking the bag out of the back seat. They both went right into the room with BA, closing the door behind them. Face went into the kitchen, sitting at the table with Hannibal and Kyleen. An awkward silence descended on the table. Their breathing, the ticking of the clock, the tapping of Kyleen's ring against her mug seem to echo through out the room.

"So, Murdock told me how you met." Kyleen blinked.

"Did he?" Face frowned as she seemed confused. "What did he say?"

"Just...that he jumped off a roof and you caught him, became friends, then more then friends with his mother."

"Yes, Alana was very special to me. Even thought she had told me she was dying the day we met, it grieved me deeply when she died. In a way, too much so." Silence again. It was interrupted by a groan coming out of the bedroom. Hannibal stood and slipped through the door. "I left Hon with the Murdock's instead of staying with him as I should have. In my long life, I have only felt grief that bad two other times. When I was nineteen and I thought Adam had died, and a few years ago when Maxwell did." She held up her hand and taped her ring.

"You were married, to a man?" she laughed.

"Yes, only a few states would allow me to marry a woman."

"No, it just you were with Murdock's mom, so I thought..."

"Yes, the last few centuries are so into labeling people. I guess you could call me bisexual, but it's more like I don't see why I should-"

"-eliminate half the population of the planet." Face finished for her. They shared a smile.

"If he's an immortal, why did you think Adam died?"

"It was before I knew about immortally. Adam knew that I was going to be an immortal, but it's against the rules to tell a pre-immortal that."

"Before you were immortal? Pre-immortal? You weren't always immortal?"

"No, I started life just like you. I was born, I grew up and if I had managed to live to old age, I probably would have died in my sleep hundreds of years ago." she snorted, "Our immortality is triggered by a violent death." she snorted, "Thought, I ask you, what kind of death, except in your sleep, isn't violent."

"So, you died and didn't know that you would wake up. No different then if someone came in here and shot me, point blank?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, eyes distant. "Just like that. It's my theory that it's the unexpectedness that makes all deaths traumatic. My first death wouldn't be considered violent, but while it was happening, I was terrified."

"How did you die?"

"Can you guess? There is evidence all over the room." he glanced around, then shook his head. "What do you see on the armchairs and couch."

"Blankets?"

"Uh-huh. And it's pleasant outside, yet I have a fire going, I'm wearing three pair of socks, and have my hands wrapped tightly around my cup of hot chocolate."

"You...froze to death?" he asked, horrified. He remembered winter nights at the orphanage, when the nuns would tie three or four of their tiny cots together so that they could share blankets, of being separated from the team in the mountains of Colombia with only a thin survival blanket. The tremors wracking his body, not being able to feel his feet, the excruciating pain just trying to make a fist. She nodded.

"I was caught in an late winter/early spring blizzard on my way to Rebecca's" she pointed to the photo with her, Murdock and the redhead. "When it stared snowing, there was no where to take shelter, and I knew I couldn't stop, so I kept walking. It was knee deep before nightfall. I was stumbling around, just trying to make sure I wasn't going in circles. It was so cold and I was exhausted. I fell against a tree, terrified of even blinking, afraid that I wouldn't open my eyes again. The next thing I knew, I WAS opening my eyes. It was day and I counted myself lucky that I survived the night."

"But you didn't."

"No, but I didn't know that until I got to Rebecca's. I was three days late. Rebecca was standing at the guardhouse. As I approached her, my head, a piercing buzzing was filling it. It eased as I looked at Rebecca. She sighed and ushered me inside, explained everything I would need to know. Then she started training me on how to use a sword. And let me tell you, that was fun." she said sarcastically.

"You still haven't explained why you fight and why was your head buzzing?"

"The buzzing. It's kinda like an early warning system. Whenever two immortals get near each other, they can sense each other presence. Saying it's a buzzing is a little wrong, it's different for all of us and it's hard to explain, but it lets us know that someone is near, that we might need to use our swords. Because we all play the GAME."

"The Game?"

"A very long time ago, someone, somewhere invented the Game. We don't know where or why. We only know the Rules. Combat must be one on one, no one is allowed to interfere. No combat is to take place on Holy Ground, anyone's Holy Ground. There is a rumor that it happened once in 79 AD. In Pompeii. And lastly, There Can Be Only One."

"Only one what?"

"Survivor. We must fight until there is only one left. The last one wins the Game and gets the Prize."

"What prize?" Face asked. Kyleen shrugged.

"No one knows. But some think it's power. Power to shape the earth for good or ill. So they headhunt, taking as many Quickening as possible. When we are beheaded, the Quickening is released. It's an energy release that contains all the power and knowledge you have obtained throughout your life. The longer you live, the more fights you win, the stronger you are. Those are the rules we live by. Always have your sword on you, always be ready to fight."

"But you're not all enemies. I mean, Adam..."

"No, some of us are friends, which is why the Game will never be over." The bedroom door opened and Murdock slipped out.

"Doc Adams got the bullet out. He's closing now, but he says that Bosco will be fine. A couple weeks of bed rest and he'll be right as rain. Boss wants to go talk to the client, cancel the job."

"But they already paid us. There were going to be explosions! We already did all the legwork. We just need to go after the bad guy. With explosions! Did I mention the explosions?"

"I know, Face, but Boss doesn't want to do it until Bosco is better. Who knows, maybe between now and then, he'll think of another plan."

"He's going to make us return the payment, isn't he?" Face put his head on the table. "No payment and no explosion."

"Well, from what Hon tells me, you know there's going to be a next time." Kyleen patted him on the back.


	5. Chapter 5

"Speaking of explosion, wasn't that McCormack you were fighting last night?"

"Hon." Kyleen sighed. Murdock walked over to the table, grasped the back of a chair. "He showed up about a week ago, looking."

_"Yow Sceolde talde mi!"_

_"Hou! Yow Sowdyowre! Yow nae Eað Finden."_

_"Ich Se A-rowe. Yow caana Fecht Bikeren!_" Murdock picked up the chair and slammed it down, before turning on his heel. Kyleen slammed her cup down as well and stood up.

"Hamish Marion Murdock!" she yelled, voice taking on a thick Scottish accent. _"N__á__ ye __siúil teith dé mé_!"

"_Stenten Bi-leden Faunt!_" he yelled, stopping at the door.

"I'll stop treating you like a child when you stop acting so." Murdock's grip on the doorknob tightened, but he didn't turn it. After a few seconds, he sighed and let go.

"He nearly beat you last time, Kyleen." He turned, stricken look on his face. "I can't-can't lose you, not because of this. Not because of... Losing Mama was hard enough, but losing you..." Face watched as Kyleen walked over to Murdock. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face into the small of his back.

"You've always been my Honorable Man."

"You haven't called me that for a while."

"I call you that all the time, 'Hon', but I guess that's not the same."

Face looked away. Feeling uncomfortable. He knew it was selfish, but he wondered what it would be like to be over there, to have someone who had known him all his life, who watched him grow. To yell at him that he was acting childish. Someone to give him a nickname that wasn't originally an insult that he turned into a personality.

Kyleen coaxed Murdock back to the table, but didn't let go of his hand. Face curled his hands into fist on the table, it was awkward again.

"What-what language do you two speak? It sounds like I should know it, but I can't make anything out." he was curious and it was something to breaking the silence.

"It's English, Facey." Murdock said with a frown.

"Brat." Kyleen slapped the side of the pilot's head, who smirked. "but he is right, sort of. It's Middle English."

"And you taught Murdock?" the two of them shared a look.

"Yeah." The door to the bedroom opened and Adam skipped out.

"Glad that's over, I need a beer." He walked over to the fridge. Kyleen opened her mouth, but shut it as he pulled out a green bottle.

"Just remember to take them with you." She sighed, shaking her head.

"Of course." He said, slouching into a chair, plunking his feet onto the table, smile making everybody in the room doubt him. Hannibal exited the room next.

"Boss, about the job-"

"Don't Face, I know what you're going to say."

"But we can do it. Yeah, it'll be a little harder, but-"

"Face! Stop! I'm not canceling the job."

"Your not?"

"No. Adam, here has volunteered to fill in for BA." Everybody turned to look at the smirking Englishman.

"What?" he asked, "Sure I haven't done it in a few hundred years, but how hard can it be?"

::An- since this story is from Face's POV, unless the characters explain what they side somehow, the Middle English won't be translated. Mostly because it reveals plot points from later in the story. I'll post a chapter at the end with all the translations and a link to the site I used for them.::


	6. Chapter 6

Face sat in the driver seat. Adam sat next to him, feet up on the dash of the rented car. A rented car that Face had not procured. Adam had more prepared identities the Face ever thought would be needed. 'Whatever you need. Lawyer, doctor, Indian chief - I've got paperwork to cover it all,*' he commented, pulling them out of an inside pocket.

He had followed Adam into the rental agency and watched as Adam smiled, the girl behind the counter melted and shortly later they had a car. Face blinked, wondering if that was what it was like to watch his own cons.

Now they were parked outside of Deepwater Construction. Hannibal had changed the plan slightly after talking with their client, a group of local business owners, who thought that Deepwater Construction was responsible for a number of arson cases around where they were developing a track of land. Some of the business that had been torched had too much structural damage and would have to be rebuilt from the ground up, costing more then the owners had.

So now they needed to get inside the construction company's office and round up some more evidence to turn into the authorities, since the original plan was to only give Deepwater Construction a taste of it's own medicine.

Face shifted in his seat. There was still half an hour before the last of the workers left for the evening. He grasped the steering wheel, more for a place to put his hands. The only sound was the popping of the engine as it cooled. Faces disliked silences.

"How long have you known Murdock and Kyleen?" he asked Adam.

"One longer then the other." Was the reply that had him rolling his eyes.

"Obviously, you could only have known HM for about, what, thirty years? But you and Kyleen are both immortals, how old were you when you two met?" keeping his slouched position in the seat, Adam looked at him. As their eyes met, some veil seemed to lift off of the other man's. The green eyes changed, became deeper, seem almost endless. Face swallowed. "You're a lot older then Kyleen, aren't you?"

"Bright boy*." The walls behind Adam's eyes slammed down. "Kyleen volunteered the information last night because of how close you are to James, but it's a little taboo to ask an immortal how old they are." He paused, sighed. "I met Kyleen when she was twelve and I was already quite older then she is now." Face nodded his understanding, looked back out the window. It was silent again, Face tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, he really hated silences.

"So, um...Kyleen mentioned that she was married to a mortal. How does that work, you know, with kids and all?"

"It doesn't."

"Huh?"

"Immortals can't have children. Not that it would matter between-" he cut off, shook his head and looked at Face with a grin.

"Between?" Adam just shook his head again. "Right," Faces sighed. "So, if you can't have kids, where do pre-immortals come from?"

"Same place the immortals do."

"Do you always answer with the obvious?"

"Only when I can, you're just making it easy on me." Adam laughed. "No one knows where we come from. All immortals are foundlings. Some are taken in by the families that find them, some are given over to Child Services. We're up."

Face looked out the window, most of the lights in the building across the street were out. A guard was locking the door behind the last of the workers. Face stared the engine and drove the mini van around the back of the building. Plunking hats on their heads and zipping up the overalls, he and Adam knocked on the door to the service entrance. After a few long seconds, the door creaked open.

"Hey, sorry we're late." Faces said, plastering his most innocent and wide-eyed look of his face. "We're still learning the city. We're SO glad you're giving us this chance! With just starting up, being able to say that we have Deepwater Construction as a client will really help us. If you'll just sign the log saying that we arrived, we'll get to work!"

"Who are you?" the guard asked. Face let the corner of his smile fall.

"We're Mineral Cleaners", he said, gesturing to him and Adam, confused. He added a selling tone and said, "No harsh chemicals, only the very best in Eco-friendly, natural cleaners." The guard looked at him blankly.

"I told you it was a prank." Adam growled out, crossing his arms and leaning against the building.

"It's not a prank!" He yelled at Adam, before turning back to the guard. "It's not a prank, right?" He asked helplessly. "It's not! Here," he opened the clipboard, pulled out an invoice, and shoved it at the guard, who caught it reflexively.

"I didn't get any note saying that we had people coming in tonight. Besides the cleaners were here last night, they come every other day."

"We were called this afternoon by a Tiffany Rowan," he pointed at the name on the invoice, "she said she had heard of us and wanted to give us a try as she wasn't happy with the company she usually used. I took the call myself!" the guard was shaking his head. "Hey! How about this, you let us in, we do the job for free, your bosses get a clean building and get to see how good we are."

"You can't do the job for free!" Adam groaned, "We just stared, do you know how much this stuff cost!" he pointed at the cart of cleaners.

"Yes, we can, it's creating a customer base. If," He took a deep breath, "It was a prank, their bosses get to see what we're like and hire us permanently!"

The guard leaned against the doorjamb, scratched the back of his neck, considering. "Commutations between management and us is shit, and I did hear Tiffany complain that she didn't like the other cleaners. As I said, they were here last night and this place is a mess." Face caught Adam's eye, trying to plaster a hopeful look on his face. The guard shrugged, "What the hell, the building gets cleaned either way." He held the door open.

"You won't regret it!" the guard just nodded as he signed the bottom of the invoice. Handing it back, the guard trudged back up the hallway to the front lobby.

Once he was out of sight, they turned down another hall toward the offices. They stopped at the only door with a nameplate on it. Cameron Welch, CEO, it read. Face unzippered a pocket on his overalls, reached in to pull out his lockpicks, but looked up as the door unlatched. Adam was smirking at him as he turned the handle and slipped a pick into one of his pockets. Face pushed passed him into the office.

"Here," He said, handing the immortal a small case, "Plant these, then check for any paper evidence. I'll check the computer, let's just hope that Welch doesn't have a laptop that he takes with him." From another pocket he pulled out a Flash Drive.

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant, Sir!" Adam snapped off a salute. Face rolled his eyes and sat down at the desk and hit the power button on the computer. It took an extraordinary long time to boot up. Adam had finished planting the bugs and had just popped the lock on the filing cabinet when Face noticed something.

"Uh-oh." He pulled the tower out from under the desk and looked at the back. "Shit!"

"What?" Adam asked.

"There's no USB port." he said sitting back up and looked at the now lit screen. "Double shit!"

Adam left the filing cabinet, coming around to look at the screen. "What?" he asked, confused. "What's wrong?"

"That!" Face pointed at the screen and the blinking DOS prompt. "Who the Fuck still use DOS!"

"Smart people." The immortal said. "People who don't want things to be found by children like you." He bit his lip and looked around the office. "and people who are stuck in a time period." Face followed his gaze, noticed the same thing Adam did.

"Why does this office look like it came straight out of 1980?"

"We need to hurry."

"I can't," Face said, guestering to the screen again. "I don't know DOS."

"Children." Adam sighed, pushing Face out of the chair. "Go look through the filing cabinet. I'll finish up here." He started clicking away on the keys. Face rifled through the first three drawers quickly, but in the last one he found the files he was looking for. It looked like Welch was worried that the people he hired to start the fires were going to blackmail him and had kept a record of all transaction with them. But there was noting in the files to connect it back to him. He hoped that Adam could find something in the computer. It was risky, but he stuffed the folders into the bottom of the cart of cleaning supplies.

"Found it!" Adam said, excitedly. "But...it looks like it can't be printed out from here. It's on a mainframe in the basement. Man, this guy is really stuck in the 80's."

They left the office and headed down to the basement.

It was ridiculously easy to get into and so far away from the lobby that they didn't worry too much about the noise the ancient printer was making. Going back up to the main floor, they were doing a cursory cleaning of the hallway to keep up appearance as they made their way back to the service entrance.

Adam had just stooped down to place a liner in a trash can, when he stood up, a panicked look on his face. He turned to look down the hallway to the lobby, his hand grasping at something not there at his side.

"We have to go, NOW!" he grabbed Face's arm and pulled him down the hall. Face grabbed the cart. They ran to the door, Adam pushed Face out just as someone rounded the corner.

"Stop right there!" Face's mouth dropped.

"Some other time." Adam said, closing the door and hurrying to the van. "Come on!" Face grabbed the files out of the cart and jumped into the passenger seat. The door opened again as Adam peeled out of the alley. "Well, that complicates things."

"Wasn't-wasn't that the guy that Kyleen was fighting the other night?"

"McCormack, Yeah. It looks like you and your little band of merry men are up against an immortal. I wonder if this will-"

"Will what?" Adam just shook his head. "Will what? Tell me, this effects me and my friends, my family, tell me!"

"I can't. It's not my secret." Face sat back in his seat, the files spilling off his lap into the footwell.

"These aren't going to be enough, are they? I mean even if we turn these in to the police, it won't help the store owners. He'll just disappear, they'll never get restitution from him." Adam shook his head, sadly. "Only you or Kyleen or another immortal can stop him, right?"

Adam sighed, pulled into a parking lot and turned off the engine. "Yeah, Kyleen or another." he said distractedly. "Listen, Kid, the best thing to do is not worry about it. We'll go back, you'll tell your colonel, and he'll come up with a plan. Someway to help those people. According to James, he's good at that, right?"

"Yeah." Face said as Adam pulled out of the parking lot.


	7. Chapter 7

Face leaned against the jamb of the front door. Murdock was perched on the railing, neck arched as he watched the stars. Face watched his Adams Apple bob as he swallowed and the conman lick his lips as he imagined how the pilot's skin would taste if he placed a kiss there.

Murdock had been out there for hours. Since shortly after he and Adam returned and informed the other of who they were up against. Murdock reacted violently, he and Kyleen had another argument in Middle English. Adam had said something at the end that had caused the pilot to storm out.

A breeze stared up and Face smiled as Murdock extended his arms, letting it catch his outer shirt, eyes closed as he flew somewhere only he knew of. He grabbed one of the many blankets that Kyleen had lying around and stepped out onto the deck, wondering about, well, a lot of things. So much had happened in the last 24 hours. Unfolding the blanket, he draped it over the pilot's arms. Murdock grasped it, pulled it around himself, opened his eyes, smiling at Face.

"Thanks"

"You looked a little cold." The conman said. He leaned against the railing. Close enough that he could feel the heat coming off of the other man. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, and closed it with a sigh. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but which one first. Nodding, he decided to go with the one that seemed the most innocuous. "HM? Earlier today, when you were helping Adam with BA, I was talking to Kyleen. She said that after your Mother died, that she left you with the Murdock's, and something about that sounded off. I mean, the way she said it, it wasn't like she took you to your Grandparents, it was like she left you with strangers."

"She did." The pilot said softly. When Face looked up, there was a smile on HM's face and a distant look in his eyes. "Colin and Cate Murdock were friends of Kyleen's. They were an older couple, well off, but had no children. When Kyleen was too grief-stricken to take care of me, she asked if they would look after me. They were happy to do it, even though dealing with me was not always a picnic. I was only five, but it was starting to become apparent that my view of the world was a little different then most peoples."

His smile brightened as he looked at Face, who, as always, smiled back. He folded his arms, tucking his hand underneath, not from any cold, but from the fact that his fingers suddenly itched to trace along Murdock's lower lip.

"Since I was only five," the pilot continued, "and couldn't understand why Kyleen was leaving me with these people, she told me that they were my grandparents. She would come back a couple of times a year, but the Murdock's raised me. They were good people and I stared using their name as mine."

Face blinked at the last sentence before chuckling mirthlessly. "You mean all this time we've know each other and I don't even know your real last name?"

Murdock looked over at him, eyebrow raised. "No more then I know yours." Face watched Murdock watch him, knowing that his friend wasn't having a dig at him, knew that he was trying to convey something beside the fact that Templeton Peck was not the name he was born with, but it was the name he used the longest and identified with.

The look in HM's eyes was more a question. How would my best friend, who knows all about me, take the next revelation? Face couldn't help himself. His hand reached out, coming up to cup Murdock's cheek. It never made it, Murdock raised his own hand, stopping it before it made contact. He didn't knock it away, but collected, cradled it in his own, fingertips of his other hand tracing lazily on the palm.

"Hamish Marrion McShane is what Mama named me. It was her favorite bedtime story to tell me. About how lucky she was, about how happy she was when..." he trailed off, swallowing, before meeting Face's eyes. "How happy she was when she opened the door and found me, that she was grateful that whoever didn't want me gave me to her."

Face didn't see the pained expression on Murdock's face as he ripped his hand away, taking a step or two back.

"You're an adopted? And you've never told me!"

"Face, please."

"NO! We've been best friends for TEN YEARS! and you've never told me!"

"Face, please," Murdock said again, sliding off the railing. He reached out a hand, but Face backed up another step. Murdock held his arm out a second, looking at it, before letting it drop back to his side. "I didn't tell you because-"

"I don't care!" Face cut him off. He took another step back and jumped off the deck, running into the woods. If he had stopped to listen he would have heard the watery hitch in Murdock's voice as his called his name.


	8. Chapter 8

Face ran to clear his head, but unlike that morning, it wasn't even measured steps. He flat out ran until he was out of breath and a dark shape impeded his path. Reaching a hand out, he made contact with smooth stone as he placed his other hand on his knee and gasped. Straightening after a minute, he saw that it was the same group of boulders that he and Murdock sat on.

He climbed up and laid back, staring at the stars. Why didn't Murdock tell him? If there was one thing about his friend that he would have understood, this was it. He slid his hands down his face, wiping away the moisture from under his eyes. He could see the scene in front of his eyes.

A comfortable house on a small farm, the golden red Texas morning sun cresting over the porch. A small basket sitting in front of the door, baby inside, note pinned to the blanket, 'Please take care of him the way we can't', the door opens, out steps a woman, look of shock at first, before she leans down and picks up her new son, taking him inside, loving him already.

He shivers as the scene changes. No longer an invented fantasy as his five year old hand reaches out, traces the swirls on the giant wooden door in front of him. He arched his neck, almost tips backwards trying to see the words above. His eyes ran along the curves, as he mouthed to himself the letters that he knew. The sky was slowly becoming gray and he hoped the sleepy sun would wake up soon because he was cold. He went back to tracing the swirls when they were pulled away. He looked up startled. The woman behind the door looked just as startled.

'What are you doing here, little one?" she asked, kneeling down.

'Is the sun awake?' he asked her.

'Almost.' She reached out and grasped his shoulder. 'Shouldn't you be at home?'

'No' He shook his head. 'I was told to stay here until the door opened. Then I'd be taken care of, and that the door would open when the sun was up. How much longer till it's awake, I'm cold.'

Watching the memory now he could see the sadness in Sister Anne's eyes as she picked him up, took him to the kitchen and made him some hot chocolate.

The stars were blurry, his chest was tight and his throat ached. Turning on his side, pillowing his head in his elbow he let it go. Back arching as the first sob tore out of him. The rest followed in quick session. Eye gumming, nose slogging, throat burning sobs, sobs that echo in the quite forest night. He didn't know long he laid there, lungs hitching as he tried to gather his breath.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a ray of light. The flashlight on the rock next to his head illuminating the trees. The hand that had been carding through his hair stopped briefly, as did the quite humming. He rolled over in Kyleen's lap. Her hand continued to brush back his bangs as the other rested against his chest.

"Feel better?" she asked. And he did. He felt lighter, almost as if, with out her hand on his chest, that he would float out into the starry sky above them. "You have so much _Cardiacle. _Have you never let it out, _Elenge Lorn Faunt."_

"I have what?" he asked, sniffling, trying to clear his throat.

"_Cardiacle." _She said sadly,_ "_Pain in your heart." Her hand tapped the left side of his chest. "You've never trusted anyone with it, have you, my Lonely Lost Child?" she was smiling as her hand came down to caress along his cheek. She looked well, motherly.

He didn't think it was possible, but he drew in a ragged breath as his chest hitched again. His eyes burned as he rolled onto his side and buried his face into Kyleen's stomach and wrapped his arms around her back. He could feel her arms holding him as she stared humming again.

What would it have been like? What would it have been like if he had been raised by Kyleen and Alanna McShane? In his mind the two images meshed. When the door opened, it wasn't Sister Anne in front of a long dark hallway. The door opened to revel Kyleen, warm smile on her face. Behind her, Alanna stood, five-year-old HM snuggled in her arms. Those changeful blue-green eyes caught Face's and he struggled to get down. Once on the ground, he scampered over and grabbed Face's hand, pulling him inside and up to what would be their room.

As he cried into Kyleen's shirt, flashes of this never had been life continued. A fantasy life in which Alanna was not sick, in which she and Kyleen raised them. Christmases, Birthdays, school plays, all of that family crap he only knew of from TV shows. And through it all, in the background, Kyleen and Alanna, always there, always supportive, even on the day that he and HM told them that they loved each other as more then brothers.

Drained of all energy and feeling yet lighter, he collapsed, rolled onto his back again; head still nestled in Kyleen's lap. He didn't remember closing his eyes, but the next thing he was aware of was light taps to his cheek.

"Leor?" another tap, "Leor?" she singsonged. "Come on Leor. I need you to wake up a little. My legs have gone numb." He blinked his eyes open. It took him a few seconds to understand what she had said, before he scooted down. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't bare to lose contact with her and kept his head pillowed on one of her thighs as she straightened her legs, gasping and grimacing at the pins and needles. She didn't seem to mind, one hand returning to his chest, fingers tapping in time to his pulse.

"Do you think you're done, _Leor_?"

"Yeah," he said after a moment. He felt calm, almost at peace. "_Leor_?"

She smiled, the playful quality make him grin. "Face." She said, before shrugging. "Well it can mean that. It's closer to 'cheek'" she said reaching out to pinch his. "And according to Hon, you can be quite cheeky if you want."

"_Leor_." He repeated, trying to get the pronunciation right. "I like it."

"I'm glad." She said, brightly. "Because..." she trailed off as she slapped him hard on the chest. "How could you do that to him! Do you know that he's wanted to tell you for years, but has been afraid of how you would take it? And what do you do? React in the worst possible way." She slapped him again.

"OW!" he reached up to catch her hand before it could hit him again. "I'm sorry. I..." he sighed. "I hurt him didn't I? I never wanted to do that. I-I..." she raised her eyebrow at him. "I love him! I love him so much."

"I know." She told him. "Even now, when your hurting, your eyes light up when he was mentioned. Have you ever considered actually telling him? I hear it's the thing to do now a days."

"Umm."

She sighed, shaking her head. "You do realize that not telling him is hurting him as well? It's hurting you too, Leor. Come on, He's probably still awake." she pushed him off her lap, collected the flashlight and slid off the rocks. It was with trepidation that Face followed her.


	9. Chapter 9

Most of the lights were out when they returned to the house, but, standing at the bottom of the stairs, Face could see the soft glow of a reading light coming from the door.

He really wasn't sure about this. The idea of going up there and telling his best friend that he was in love with him was terrifying. He didn't know why. It wasn't like he thought that HM didn't like him that way, he'd always thought that he and the pilot would eventually get together and he sincerely hoped that Kyleen wouldn't tell him to do it if she knew that HM didn't feel the same.

"You know," he jumped, having forgotten she was still in the room. He turned to see her standing behind the couch, arms folded. "Of all the things Hon's told me about you, the one thing he's never mentioned was that you were a coward." He glared at her, she smiled back. "Glad we're in agreement. Now, will you please go upstairs and tell my son that you love him or, at the very least, apologize for being a jackass earlier."

She turned, walked across the living room to the door of the bedroom he used the night before, closing the door behind her.

Face slowly started up the stairs. There weren't that many, but he managed to take a full minute. At the top, he stood, smoothing his shirt, brushed off any dirt off his pants and ran a hand through his hair. Unable to stall anymore, he raised a hand, rapped a knuckle on the door. At the murmur from inside, he slowly twisted the knob, easing the door open.

He spotted HM immediately He was sitting in the window seat, facing away from the door. His hands plucked softly at the strings of a guitar.

"_Yow Finden Hine? Hine Fere?" _He asked. At Face's 'Um' he turned around. Their eyes met, so much floating around in the blue-green before the pilot went back to plucking at the guitar. Walking over and easing his way onto the window seat, Face tried to think of the best way to start. The pilot beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, Face." The guilt he already felt at hurting HM only worsened.

"Don't apologize, HM. I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have acted that way. I was being selfish, again, and I hurt you. It's just..." he sighed, his fantasy of growing up with HM still running through his head. "You had the home life I always wanted. "

HM put down the guitar, nudged one of his toes against Face's thigh until the conman turned in the window seat to face him, knees touching, ankles laced.

"That's why I didn't tell you before. I knew it was a touchy issue for you and our situations were so different that it didn't seem to matter. But I HAVE wanted to tell you."

"So..." Face said into the silence. "Should I call you McShane now?" HM laughed.

"I haven't used McShane since I was seven. You can still call me Murdock."

"What was your mom like?"

"Mama?" HM shifted so that his head was leaning on the window, but his eyes never left Face's. "Mama was beautiful. She was short, only came up to Kyleen's eyes. Her hair was soft strawberry blond. Our eyes were the same color, even thought she wasn't really my mother. She was pale, I don't know if that was normal or if it was the sickness. There was a smattering of freckles on her cheeks. I remember sitting on her lap and playing connect the dots with my finger. She was really upset the one time I used ink. Kyleen helped me escape a serious spanking from that." He laughed.

HM kept talking. Story after story. Funny, sad, informative, they just kept coming. Face had a small epiphany that maybe his friend needed to talk, not to Kyleen, who already knew, or to any of the therapist he had seen in the hospitals. But to someone else, someone who he..." Face shook that thought away and added stories from the few foster homes he had been in.

They talked for hours. Face wasn't sure when the moved from the window seat to the bed, but they were lying on their side, facing each other. Face watched as HM blinked before smiling sleepily at him. He smiled back, raising a finger to brush back the longish bangs.

"HM?" the pilot opened his eyes. "I-I-" he couldn't do it. Looking into the wonderful eyes, he couldn't do it. The eyes closed.

"What, Facey?" it was sighed out as HM's breathing evened out.

"I love you." He told the sleeping man.


	10. Chapter 10

Face could hear voices, or rather, a voice. He didn't really want to wake up, but it had caught his attention. Recognizing it was HM talking quietly, he pulled through the sleepiness and opened his eyes the meet HM's startled ones.

"Facey?" the pilot asked carefully.

"Hmm?" he said, or hoped he said.

"Are you awake?"

"No" he sleepily returned the bright smile HM shot at him. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but his hand felt too heavy.

"Go back to sleep, Face." HM whispered to him. "It's still early. I'll wake you in a little while."

"'kay" he felt the pilot slip out of the bed and managed to stretch out arm to try to stop him, but only found warm sheets. Pulling the pillow to him, burying his nose in it, he let HM's scent lull him back to sleep.

"_Druerie____Yow_" Face thought the pilot whispered as he felt fingers in his hair.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was awake, the sun was up and he could smell coffee. He rolled out of bed, itchy from sleeping in his clothes again. A shower, change of clothes and coffee sounded amazing. His stomach growled as he opened the door and the smell of breakfast hit him.

HM was at the stove, plates of bacon, eggs, blueberry pancakes and French Toast sitting on the island. And most importantly, a fresh pot of coffee.

"Facey! Morning! I was just about to come wake you. Kyleen's hid all the cleaning supplies from me, do you think Barbeque sauce would be good on French Toast?"

"Not as bad as some of the things you tried, but I think I'll stick to syrup. I just want to grab a shower and a change of clothes first." He walked over to the room he used before, ignored HM's "Face, wait!" and turned the knob, he promptly shut the door. Turning, he saw HM sheepishly poking a spatula in a pan. "How...when..."

"Your bags by the couch." The pilot said. "You can use the shower upstairs." He grabbed the bag and did just that. When he came back down stairs, Kyleen was seated at the island, a full plate in front of her.

"Morning, _Leor_." She said brightly, eyes darting back and forth between him and HM.

"_Leor_?" HM said, turning his head this way and that, trying to see if the name fit.

"I know that _An-leth_would be more accurate, but..." she shrugged.

"Why not _Chere_? Face is very friendly and welcoming."

"Not quite the sound I wanted. Same with _I-lete_ and _On-sene_. I thought about _Neb_, but I like Leor."

Face ignored them both by concentrating on pouring himself a cup of coffee. Doctoring it to him liking, he looked up as a door opened. Hannibal, sleep pants hanging off his hips and smoothing down a t-shirt, came out the room Face had been using. Face shook his head, focusing on the food HM had prepared.

They ate in silence, HM finishing first, before making up a tray to take into Bosco. Kyleen had gone from smirking at him to just short of glaring. Once the door to BA's room shut behind HM, she kicked him under the table.

"You didn't tell him, did you, _Leor_!"

"Yes, I did." He affirmed, rubbing his shin under the table. At her glare, he wilted a little. "It's just...he was asleep at the time."

"I should kick you again." She said shaking her head with a sigh. Face pushed back with his feet, getting out of range.

"I can't just tell him! There are a lot of things to consider. Our friendship, and...and...and the team dynamic, right, Hannibal?"

"Oh, no!" the Colonel said, hands waving in front of him. "I've stayed out of this thing between you and Murdock for years! I'm not getting pulled in now!"

"What am I going to do wi-" she cut off, eyes going distant, as her head slowly turned towards the door. It was the look that Face now recognized as one immortal sensing another. She moved towards the door, he didn't know from where, but by the time she got there, she had a sword in her hands. She sighed, lowered sword, and turned just as Face heard a car. "It's just Adam."

"Good, there is something I wish to ask him." Hannibal commented, pushing away from the table and picking up the empty plates.

"Did you think it might be someone else." Face asked, joining Hannibal at the sink. Kyleen shrugged.

"You never know, plus with you running into McCormack last night, it's possible that he could have found this place. As I said, always be prepared."

"Aww!" Adam sighed as he surveyed the kitchen as he came in. "Did I miss one of James' breakfasts?"

"Yeah," Kyleen patted her stomach. "You can help me work it off. I haven't spared in a while."

"Spar?" Face asked, eyes raking up and down her slim form.

"Oh, no" Adam said, backing up quickly. "I've rather not die today."

"You'd do it for MacLeod"

"Yes, if MacLeod asked to spar, I would because he has those pesky morals that keeps him from maiming me!"

"MacLeod's a Paladin!" she snorted. "He doesn't just have morals, he has 'Codes of Honor'."

"And that's not a good thing?" Hannibal asked, looking at her strangely.

"Oh it is, just, you know, not when you're a judgmental asshole who expects the whole world to live by YOUR moral code and think it's YOUR job to stop everyone who doesn't."

"I take it that you don't like this MacLeod guy very much?" Faces asked, putting the dishes away. Kyleen sighed.

"He's not that bad of a guy." She said, looking ill as she said it. "we just have a slight difference in our view of the world. Now, you" she turned to Adam, "grab your sword and get outside or I'll pay off your tab at Joe's"

"Okay, fine!" Adam huffed, before turning and sulking outside.

"Um, wouldn't paying off his tab be a good thing?"

"Running joke that if his tab ever gets paid off, Joe won't have to keep serving him. As you see," she pointed to the box that Adam had brought in with him "He's never with out beer, claims it was invented for him."

Face and Hannibal poured themselves another cup of coffee, then followed them out. They took a seat on the steps just as the other two ended their preliminary stretches. Face didn't know what to expect, maybe that they would stand in the 'en guard' position like in all those old sword fighting movies, but they just stood there. Every so often one would twirl their sword, he blinked, then the sound of metal on metal came.

Strike, thrust, parry, and a bunch of other moves he didn't know the name of. A lot of it reminded him of the hand to hand bladed combat he trained at in the Rangers. It was just as fast and violent, if he didn't know better, he would have thought it was for real.

A hand on his shoulder had him moving over as HM squeezed in between him and Hannibal. He didn't blink as the pilot took a sip of his coffee, but winced as Kyleen pulled back, slicing Adam's side. A line of red appeared on the shirt, but neither of the fighters seemed to notice.

"It's amazing to watch, isn't it?" HM whispered. He could only nod. For another ten minutes it went on. First Adam, the Kyleen getting the upper hand. Stab, block, thrust, parry, spin block, strike, block. Until Adam released one hand from the hilt, jabbed at Kyleen's wrist, making her drop her guard, while his other hand brought his sword around to stop just short of it's goal, resting on her shoulder, blade just touching her neck.

Next to him, HM shivered. Looking over, the pilot's eyes were closed, head down. His hand was on HM's back before he told it to.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just...don't like seeing that. Even when it just this." His hand waved at the two fighters, who where coming over. HM reached behind them and handed over the bottles of water he'd brought out.

"You know," Adam said, after drinking half the bottle, poking at the hole in his shirt, "this was new."

Face stared, he could see the blood staining the shirt, could even see an oblong circle of dried blood on Adam's side, but in the circle, nothing but smooth skin.

"I'll buy you a new one. But I'm glad that this was just a spar, since I lost." HM whimpered.

"You might have lost, but it was amazing to watch." Hannibal said, gazing admiringly at Kyleen.

"Speak for yourself," Hm muttered. Face's hand run up his back into his hair, he started a slow massage of his scalp as he wondered what it was like for HM, this was the second fight he watched Kyleen loose in two day. He wondered if the pilot was worried about her going up against McCormack.

The other three were talking, he knew that, but all he could concentrate on was the feel of HM's hair under his fingers. It was silky smooth. He had the sudden urge to turn his head to take in it's sent, to see which shampoo the pilot used that day. Instead he arched his fingers a little, using a hint of his nails. HM let out a happy sound and tilted his head back into Face's hand.

Face hadn't realized that he closed his eyes, but opened them when he heard silence. HM was leaning into him and the other three were smirking at him. With one last scritch, he pulled his hand away from HM's head. The pilot gave a disappointing moan, before opening his own.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, Hon." Kyleen said softly. "But Hannibal might want you two to pay attention."

"Oh, um, what's up. Boss?"

"Nothing much, Captain. Just wondered if you and Face would be interested in blowing up a Construction site tonight?"

"I think we might be able to pencil you in, Colonel!"

"We're going through with it?" Face asked.

"Yes. There's not much else we can do. We might not be able to stop McCormack permanently, but we can slow him down and make it harder for him the hurt our clients more. I'm taking the files to the clients later today. Adam's agreed to help out again."

"What if McCormack's there?"

"We'll deal with that then." Hannibal sighed.


	11. Chapter 11

Once again Face crouched just inside the sliding door of the van as it sat outside the fence surrounding the Deepwater Construction site. There was still a few hours until they were going to rig it to blow, but Hannibal wanted to see it in daylight one more time before he finalized his plans.

Face didn't think much planning was needed this time. Just wait till everybody was gone, slap a wad of C4 on the explosive shed and BOOM! Bye-Bye construction site. They had come from handing the files over to the clients, who now had enough on McCormack that if he bothered them after the team left, they try to have him arrested. Kyleen said that he would just fake his death and move elsewhere, but at least their clients would be safe.

"Alright," Hannibal said, "I think I got everything I need." He walked around to the driver's side. Adam was in the passenger seat. HM slipped pass Face and took his seat behind Hannibal, while Face held out his hand to help Kyleen into the van, before sliding the door shut. Hannibal started the van and pulled out onto the main street.

"So," Kyleen said from where she was kneeling between Face and HM in the back. "Got any plans for between now and making things go BOOM?" silence. "Right, anyone got any objections to the Blues, because Joe is playing tonight."

Getting out of the van and seeing the neon sign for JOE'S blues bar, Face wondered in the entire night was going to be a repeat of the one two days ago. And if so, how was it going to end. It was still a little early for the bar to be opened but he and the others just followed Adam up the stairs.

Once inside, they were blasted by music. He, HM, and Hannibal stood in the doorway, letting their eye adjust to the dim lights inside. Adam walked over to the bar and got himself a beer, while Kyleen motioned them over to a table in the center of the empty bar.

They sat and listened. Face wasn't an enthusiast of the Blues, couldn't actually say if he'd ever listened to a blues song in his life, but this, this was good. The beat was infectious, his foot already tapping along to it. The singers voice was *gruff as sandpaper, yet also sweet as honey.* It was much too soon that the song ended.

"Okay, guys," the singer said. "That sounded good, get some rest and be back by nine, ready for tonight." The musician put away their instruments, one taking the guitar from the singer and handing him a cane. With a shift of his left, then right hip, he slid off the stool. Face watched his awkward, uneven gait as he maneuvered off the stage and towards them.

"Joe lost both his legs in 'Nam" Kyleen leaned over and whispered to him. He nodded, recognized why it looked familiar. He had some friends from Iraq who now had prosthetic legs and arms.

"Kyleen! I didn't know you were back?"

"Does that mean that someone is in trouble?" she asked, kissing his cheek as they all stood.

"Nah, Darren's report is probably in my inbox, I'm a little behind."

"I hope you don't mind that we brought a few people over early?" Hannibal and Face shook his hand as Kyleen introduced them. A splash of purple on his wrist caught Face's attention. A trefoil-in-circles was tattooed on the inside of his left wrist. Adam had the same image tattooed in the same place.

"H.M. Murdock!" Joe said, turning to the pilot. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Kyleen had told me a lot, and...I'm just glad to finally meet you."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't say that Kyleen's told me much about you, but anybody who can sing like that I want to know." Joe ducked his head and shrugged.

"Please, sit. I see that Adam's already gotten you all drinks." They retook their seats. "So, what brings you all to my humble tavern?" Face and HM looked to Hannibal. Face watched him blink, running through what cover to tell, but Kyleen placed a hand on his.

"You can tell." She said quietly. "Joe's good with secrets." The one corner of her mouth quirked up. "Plus, he already knows what you do for a living."

"You're on a job?" Joe asked, lowering the bottle of water his was about to sip. "Here? In my bar?"

"No," Hannibal said, with a look at Kyleen. She grinned innocently back. "We seem to have a few hours to kill before we proceed with helping our client tonight."

"So I thought that they might like to hear some good music while they wait." Kyleen commented. They were quite. Face knew that Hannibal was thinking about what Kyleen had told Joe about them and if it put them at risk, but Face wasn't worried. He doubted that she would do anything that would put HM at risk. "Speaking of Darren, I haven't seen him lately. Did he get reassigned or did you send him back to the academy for stealth lessons?"

"Darren? He your new Watcher?" HM asked.

"Watcher?" Face asked. Joe sighed.

"**I am a Watcher," Joe said, holding up his hand and showing them the tattoo on his wrist. "We're secret society of men and women who know the truth about Immortals. We observe and record, but never interfere.**" Here Adam gave a laugh. "Shut up, you!" he turned back to the others "**When you get through all of life's crap, the only thing that matters is the truth. We want the truth about Immortals to survive** there are so many events throught out history that Immortals have been apart of, events that have shaped our world, and we know nothing about them, we don't know what really happened, because the Immortals have to stay hidden. And I belive in the adage about not learning from the past."

"So, you stalk people for a living?" Face asked.

"No," Joe laughed. "I'm a little lacking in the mobility to stalk someone. I'm the Area Supervisor. I do have an assignment, but we're pretty good friends, so he tells me what I need to know."

"If you're a secret society who watches the Immortals, why do he," pointing to Adam, "have the same tattoo?"

"Simple," Adam said, "I was a watcher for 15 years. I thought it was the best place to hide. I knew where most of the other immortals were and could avoid them."

"And got yourself put in charge of your own chronicle."

"Yes, well. I was preserving historical accuracy by correcting the mistake you lot had made."

"Historical accuracy!" Joe snorted. "You described yourself as 'a huge bear of a man, with a deep booming voice'!"

"So, I might have fudged a few of the minor details," Adam waved aside the issue. "The point is that I corrected a lot more then I might have changed."

"Right." Joe said with another snort, then a smile.

The conversation drifted to other topics. Face could only listen at first as Hannibal and Joe talked about the way things were during Joe's brief military career, then it changed to the social and political landscape at the time, letting Adam and Kyleen join in. considering HM's large scope of knowledge, he wasn't surprised when the pilot added a few smart observation. But he was greatly relived when the conversation rolled around to things he could comment on.

He was currently describing to Joe, with hand motions and sound effects, what had happened that morning on the LA docks.

"...then I'm realizing that what I was trying to do was a lot easier with cups, then really freaking heavy shipping containers, but I got them in places..." he trailed off as he saw he lost his audience. Most of the people at the table had turned, Joe just smiled at him and nodded towards the door. It opened, the rectangle of light backlit the tall figure of a man. He stood there for a second, before the door closed behind him. Kyleen made a disgusted sound, turned back to the table, and took a gulp of her ginger ale like it was something harder.

"Joe." The man nodded, walking over to them.

"Macleod! Hey, how have you been? Pull up a seat."

Face wondered what Kyleen had against this guy as Macleod sat down and introductions were exchanged. He was tall, wearing a trench coat, had short dark hair, dark eyes, and an olive complexion. Face now noticed, as he slipped the trench coat off, that the left side hung oddly, as if it was weighted down. He filed that identifying mark away.

"So, what brings you here, Macleod?"

"Oh, um, nothing much. Just haven't seen you in awhile." He hemmed.

"Right," Joe sighed. "What's their name?"

"He's got you Macleod." Adam laughed, "How many time lately have you come to see Joe when you don't have a new emery to fight."

"That's not true, Methos!" Face pushed back from the table as it was sprayed by the beer that HM had been sipping.

"Methos!" the pilot exclaimed, looking at Adam in awe. Kyleen face palmed, before glaring at the new comer.

"You know, Macleod," Kyleen stated, standing up "There is a reason that he introduces himself as 'Adam Pierson'" she marched over to the bar for towels, handing one to Face and HM. "Sometimes I think that you are determined to get him killed!" she slouched back into her seat. Macleod had been sitting there, blinking, as if he didn't know what he had done, until that last sentence.

"It's. his. Name." He bit out. A terse silence followed.

'Uh, how about an explanation for those of us who, you know, need one." HM was still looking at Adam with a look he'd only ever seen the pilot give the latest aircraft.

"You're Methos?" HM whispered. "You're real? I mean Rebecca said you were a myth."

"Yes, James, I'm real. Rebecca tells people I'm a myth as a favor to me." He turned to Face and Hannibal, blinked, and the veil that had once parted for Face did so again. "I am Methos." He said, his voice taking on a lilting quality, almost like English was a new language for him. "I am the oldest of the Immortals. I don't know how old I am because I can only remember the last five thousand years." he blinked again and a smirk appeared, "everything before that is a bit blurry."

"Five thousand years?" Hannibal's eye looked a little glazed. Face wondered what the History buff in his CO wanted to ask about.

"Ah-huh. You actually remind me of your namesake."

"You knew Hannibal, the Carthaginian?"

"Yeah, his strategies were always unquie. Even I scoffed when he mentioned thoes bloody elephants he's so famsous for. But I think we should get back to Macleod's newest problem. And oh, please, tell me that this will cause you to have a moral delemia, you're entertaing when you have thoes."

"Why am I friends with you again?" Macleod asked, before turning to Joe. "What do you know about Cameron Welch?"

"Well, what do you know!" Adam started laughing. "This really is becoming a small world."

"Alistair McCormack." Kyleen said. "Since you are so into calling people by their birth name, his name is Alistair McCormack and he's not your probable."

"Is he yours?"

"He might be. It depends."

"On what?"

"Things that are not your business."

"It's my business when he threatens a friend of mine!

"One way or another it shouldn't matter after tonight." She stood up and went down the hall to the restrooms. When she came back, Hannibal stood and made his goodbyes.

"I would like to go back to Kyleen's to check on my Sergeant before tonight." He said, shaking Joe's hand. They piled back into the van, silence reigned until halfway back and Adam piped up.

"So, on a scale of 1-10, your bitchy level with Macleod usually remains at a 2. Today you were at, I don't know, what would you say, James? A 6 or a 7?"

"You sure I wasn't at 9?" she asked, falling onto her back between the two rear seats. "I'm sorry. I never know how Macleod's going to react to things. You've known him longer, how would he have reacted if he found out what the guys do for a living. Would it have been 'You help the little people who cant' help themselves, Good for you' or 'Laws are laws for a reason, you are federal fugitives, I must stop you and call the Military Police?' I mean looked how he reacted to something you did THREE THOUSAND YEARS ago!"

Adam didn't answer and Face thought that maybe that was the answer. They continued the rest of the way back in silence. Once there, Kyleen went up to her room, while Hannibal went over the plan for that night.

The plan was simple, not quite as simple as 'slap a wad of C4 on the explosive shed and BOOM! Bye-Bye construction site' Hannibal and Adam were going to set up multiple small charges around the perimeter of the large site. Face and HM were going to sneak into the warehouse, find any information that might me kept in the office there, then set a charge. All the charges would be remote detonated once they were sure no one was around.

Most of it was going well, Face thought as he picked the lock on the office in the warehouse. He just hoped that any computers that were in there were a bit more modern then the ones in McCormack's office in town. There was no computer in there at all, thought, just filing cabinet. He and HM started rifling thought them. Each pulling a file out and setting it on the desk.

"Okay, kid," came across his radio. "We're out and waiting on you."

"Be there in a second, Boss." HM replied. "Got one more filing cabinet to go." Face got that one as HM planted the charges in the office. He placed the files they were taking with them in a bag and heading for the door when HM stumbled and pulled Face to the floor.

"This not good. This is the very opposite of good." HM eased up to look out the window before darting down. "Doc?" he said into the mic, "We got a problem."

"I know, James. I saw him go in, but I was too far way from him."

"What's wrong?" Hannibal asked. Face leaned up to look out the window, HM pulled him down, but not before he saw McCormack standing in the open space.

"McCormack's here." He told Hannibal.

"_Shit_!"

"Yeah, we have no way out until he leave. Let's just hope he doesn't want to come in here."

"Doc?" HM said, before looking at Face and switching to Middle English. _"__An-leth Con Naht Finden ut, naht Ilich Nou_" Face frowned. Wasn't _An-leth _one of the words the Kyleen said could be used for 'Face'

"_I'm sorry, James, You know there is nothing I can do."_

"I know, Doc." HM sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I know someone's here!" McCormack yelled. "Come out and face me!" Face was looking around the room, trying to thing of something, looking for anything they could use.

"I suppose I could empty my mag into him, while we run like hell." The pilot still had his head in his hands. "HM? Hey, don't worry, we'll get out of this. This is nothing, right." Sitting up HM let out a deep sigh, before meeting Face's eyes. There was a sad smile on his lips and his eyes were serious. "HM?"

"I love you, Face. I've loved you for years." His hand came up and cupped Face's cheek. Thumb gliding along his cheekbone. "Ever since shortly after Mexico and I came off all the crap they give me, I've loved you. More then I've ever thought it was possible to love someone."

All Face could do was blink. Part of him was doing an ecstatic dance of joy. HM LOVED HIM! The slightly more pragmatic side was screaming that this was not the time. Of course it was smiling ridiculously while it was screaming, but still.

"I really want to kiss you right now." HM said, thumb now caressing Face's lips. "But I'm not gonna, I'll save that for something to hope for later." he got to his knees and ran his hand threw his hair to squeeze the back of his neck. "While he's distracted, you can make a break for the door, get to Hannibal and Doc Adams."

He was going to ask how HM was going to distract McCormack and did he really think that Face would abandon him, when he noticed that HM wasn't squeezing the back of his neck. His hand slipped passed the collar of his leather jacket. His jaw dropped as HM pulled out a sword.


	12. Chapter 12

"I love you" HM whispered again, before squaring his shoulders and opening the door.

"James Murdock." Face heard McCormack say. "I hoped it would be you!" Face eased up to look out the window. McCormack was still standing it the empty space in the middle of the warehouse. HM stood a few paces away, sword hanging by his side, grip loose, but ready.

"Hello, Alistair." Face blinked. These two knew each other? He knew that HM knew OF McCormack, but they were on first name bases?

"Is someone else in there? I thought I saw two people come in here."

"Just me." HM said, twirling his sword.

"Shame. I would love to have one of your friends watch you die. I knew when I heard that McShane was here that you couldn't be far behind. All those poor businesses, torched."

HM's sword stopped mid-twirl. "You threatened them to get me here!"

"Mmm. Thought you weren't going to show, went after McShane, knowing that if I killed her, you come looking for her Quickening. And what do I find, but you and your merry bunch raiding my warehouse." He shrugged his shoulders, a sword appearing in his hand as the coat fell to the ground. "I was concentrating of the fight that night, I didn't even feel you approach." McCormack smiled, a sharks smile. Even through the dirty glass of the office window, it made Face's skin crawl. "Which one was it? I couldn't tell at the distance."

HM's face tightened into such a rage that Face had never seen. He brought his sword up in an overhead cut that McCormack easily parried. He quickly countered, circling the swords around to make a cut to HM's right side. The pilot leaped back, spinning, trading places with McCormack. They stared at each other for a moment more, then raised their swords and the fight began in earnest.

If Face had been amazed at the speed of the spar between Adam and Kyleen, it was nothing to this. In the blink of an eye the fighters traded three blows. He forgot about hiding, he forgot about running while they were distracted, instead he stood in the door and watched. Even

thought he knew the rule about not interfering was for other immortals, he probably wouldn't have thought about it. HM's moves were fluid, graceful. Anyone who thought that the man wouldn't or hadn't made it through Ranger Training, just needed to see this. Cut, parry, thrust, block, lunge. Though he was getting worried, he could see a pattern emerging from HM's strikes. McCormack saw it too, lunged at an opening, and jumped back as HM twisted, sword coming up, cutting across McCormack's front, who folded forward, instinctively protecting his injury, letting HM bring the point of his sword down his opponents back.

McCormack flailed, causing his sword to come back around and rake across HM's shins. The pilot dropped to his knees. His head came up just as McCormack stood, arm bringing his sword around and towards HM's neck.

Face's horrified gaze met HM's. The pilot's eyes were sad, but resigned. There was a lot more in there that he never got to figure out as the van smashed through the warehouse door, right into McCormack, who flew across the room.

"Whoopise." Hannibal said, getting out of the van. Face didn't wait, as soon as the van came through, he was running for HM. Dropping to his knees, he wrapped his arms around the pilot, head falling onto the crook of HM's shoulder, pressing kisses to the neck that still had a head attached to it.


	13. Chapter 13

The ride back to Kyleen's cabin had been quiet. HM's hand never left Face's, the conman tightening his grip each time it felt like the pilot was letting go. Once at the cabin, HM whispered a few words to Kyleen, before dragging Face into the downstairs bedroom. Closing the door behind them, Face caught a glimpse of Hannibal reverently handing Kyleen HM's sword.

HM was sitting on the bed, elbows on knees, shoulders tense.

"Was it the crash?" Face asked, sitting next to him. Looking confused, HM blinked at him.

"Huh?"

"The crash." Face repeated. "The one that you told me you felt guilty for surviving, the one that got you sent to the Psych ward, is that where it happened? Is that where you became..."

"Immortal?"

"Yeah."

"No, that's-that's not when it happened."

"It wasn't in combat, though? I mean, it didn't happen in the last ten years, right?"

"No, it wasn't in the last ten years."

"Oh, good, because if you had been injured that badly on a mission and hadn't told us...wait, so it happened before we met?" his eyes ran across HM's face. That last year in Iraq they had celebrated HM's 36's birthday, but then Kyleen didn't look over 35. "Are-are you older then you look?"

"Yeah."

"I know that Adam said it was taboo to ask, but how old are you?" Face tried to catch HM's eyes, but they darted around the room, so Face slipped to the floor in front of him and took his hands. "HM?"

"Does it really matter?"

"No." Face told him, squeezing his hands. "No, it doesn't. But I'd like to know." HM sighed. Face tightened his grip on HM's hands.

"I was born in 1505."

"15-1505! you're 507!" Face hadn't meant to sound incredulous, was determined to remain calm, to not freak out on his friend again, But 507! Face blinked. In his mind he saw the image he envision earlier.

Alanna McShane standing on the porch of a comfortable two story house on a small farm, the golden red sunlight of a Texas morning glinting off her soft red hair. But the image changed, morphed before his eyes. The young woman was no longer wearing jeans and a loose shirt, but a peasant blouse, and a skirt that touched the weather beaten planks of a small cottage. Her hair was wrapped up in white scarf, that bounced the weak, cool spring sunlight away.

"But your accent? You couldn't have been putting that on for the last ten years?"

"You know I've always been quick to pick up accents and I spent the last century and a half in Texas," he shrugged. "Well, there was the first decade of the twentieth century that I spent in Kitty Hawk with Wilbur and Orville. I was going by Charles Furnas then." he shrugged again. "I've been doing it so long, it became natural." he cleared his throat. "My natural accent sounds strange to me now." Face sat back up on the bed.

"Where are you from then?" the accent had sounded a little Scottish and a little English to him.

"Annan. It's about ten miles north of the border into England." Neither spoke, there were so many questions that Face wanted to ask.

"Did you...You said...You meant what you said in the warehouse, right? About...that you..." HM smiled

"That I love you? Yes." His hand came up and cupped Face's cheek. "I love you more then I've loved any one in such a long time."

"I love you, HM." the pilot smiled again as the both leaned in, lips meeting chastely, then harder, hungrily as they fell back on the bed. They kissed for awhile, Face only breaking the kiss to remove their shirts. He maneuvered himself over HM and started trailing kisses down cheek to his chin, then jumped to his Adam's apple and laid a open mouth kiss there, laving it with his tongue.

The pilot's reaction was intense. He clamped his legs around Face's hip and ground his suddenly very hard erection against the conman's. His head had tilted back and he let out the neediest moan that Face had ever heard, one he smothered by grabbing the sides of Face's head and smashing their lips together.

HM broke the kiss and lay gasping.

"If I didn't have the evidence to the contrary pressing against me" Face said, undulating into the man under him, pulling more delicious moans out of him, "I'd think that you just finished."

"Sorry. Necks-" HM panted, "Necks sensitive."

"Oh, what else is sensitive?" Face placed a quick kiss on HM's lips before exploring the broad expanse of chest, letting his hand map out the area before following with his mouth. He made his way down and started to unfasten his pants when he stopped and looked up. "Um..."

"Just thought of that?" HM laughed, shucking his pants.

"My bag is still upstairs."

"Yeah, so is mine, not that I have some, so in less you actually carry lube on you, we don't have any."

"I could run upstairs." he scooted to the edge of the bed.

"Go ahead," Hm said, putting his hands behind his head, "but I'm sure that at least Kyleen is waiting in the living room and I'm not willing to brave the smirk she would be throwing me." shirt halfway over his head, Face froze. "thought so." the pilot said with a laugh, leaning up and removing the shirt again. He plastered himself to Face's back, hands coming up under each arm and pressing against his pecks. "There are other things we can do." he whispered into the conman's ear before nipping the lobe, and letting his hands drift down Face's chest. Pressing kisses to Face's shoulder and neck, he undid the belt buckle and popped the button on the pants, and the hand slithered in. Face let out a groan and his head fell back onto HM's shoulder as the hand worked him. A tug and Face lifted up and scooted back, letting pants and boxers fall to the floor.

HM pushed him back on the bed as he made his way down, spending time on each nipple, finding that one spot on his left side, before arriving at his waist. He wasn't sure what to make of the mischievous smirk that HM shot him, but didn't think of it long as warm wet heat surrounded him.

"Oh! Ohhhh!" Face was experienced, but a couple flicks of HM's tongue and him clenching the bedsheets. A swiped at the head and a couple other things he couldn't name, but just felt damn good, had him coming like a teenager. He opened his eyes to see HM laying next to him, head in hand.

"You alright?"

"What was-How did..."

"500, remember" he laughed. "I know techniques that most cultures have forgotten about."

Something about the raised eyebrow along with the smirk got to Face, so he raised his hand and lightly trailed his fingertips down HM's neck. The pilot gasped, arched his neck, eyes closing. Face slowly encouraged him to lay down.

"I always knew that you reacted to your nape being touched, but the front..." he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the exposed skin, parting his mouth slightly, allowing his tongue to barely touch. HM whimpered, pulling him closer, grounding his erection into his hip. Face moved even closer, kissing, licking, and nipping at HM's neck.

"Facey, Please!" The conman rolled HM under him and latched on to the side of his neck and sucked. HM arched under him, hands clawing in Face's hair as a warm wetness appeared between them. Face smiled as he leaned back to admire the mark that would be left behind, but then shook his head as the mark faded away as he watched. Instead he kissed the place the mark had been and made his way down to clean the stickiness away. Once done with that, he moved back up, kissed the pilot as the smaller man curled against him, hand carding through the shaggy hair.

It's much later, Face isn't sure if either of them dozed, but he's staring at the ceiling and he can tell HM is awake.

"HM?"

"Hmmm"

"How did you die?" he still feel weird asking that question to someone alive, but he's curious. HM rolled over to look at him.

"Oh, um, I was cleaning out the hay loft. It was my job because I liked being up high. I was crossing the beams from one side to the other, something I had done hundreds of time, but I lost my balance and fell. Kyleen thinks it was unavoidable. I didn't live a dangerous life, but I was at my peak, physical, the best time to become immortal, before I started to age too much. Most of us become immortal in that time frame." his hand trace along the side of the conman's face. "Something always happens. Very few of us manage to live a normal mortal life, growing old, dying peaceful with our family around us."

"How-how many times have you died?"

"A lot." HM laughed. "I haven't exactly kept count."

"What's it like?" Face asked softly. The pilot was quite and Face was going to take back the question when HM spoke.

"It's like the first time." he rolled onto his back, hands going up to grasp something. "I feel weightless, like I'm falling. Kyleen says she feels bitterly cold. One of Rebecca's other students, Amanda, say even if she gets shot, she feels a blow to the back of her head. And then there is the fear that maybe this time whatever makes us immortal won't work, that we won't wake up." Face didn't like the distant look on HM face, he wanted to change the mood, so he racked his mind for something else to ask. He smiled.

"So, you said that you loved me more then anyone in a long time, huh?" HM laughed, rolling onto his side so they were face to face.

"I'm going to start calling you Peacock, Face!" he ran a hand through Face's hair, ruffling it, grinning at the face the conman made. "But yes, the only person I've loved as much as I love you would be Alice."

"Alice?"

"My wife."

"You were MARRIED!"

"Yeah." HM had a distant look on his face again, but time it was a good one. "She was beautiful, Face. Her father was friends with Colin Murdock. I was so happy when her father promised her to me on her tenth birthday. But not as happy as three years later on our wedding day. She wore her hair in multiple braids, decorated with flowers. And when I took it down that night, it nearly touched the floor. We were always tan from working the farm, which made her pale blue eyes look a little out of place."

"You married a thirteen year old?"

"Face, It was 1519. I was only fourteen myself. We were married for eight years and were trying for a child when...when the Sweating Sickness swept through Europe. The historians say that it didn't spread into northern England and never reach Scotland, but it nearly decimated our village. The Murdock's and Alice died within hours of each other. I'm glad that Kyleen was there, I would have tried to follow them, not knowing that I couldn't." Face watched the distance leave HM's eyes as his thoughts came back to the present. "it's strange, but there are so many little thing that you do that remind me of Alice. Like this." he reached out and touched the corner of Face's mouth. "the way it quirks up when you're trying not to laugh. Or the furrow you get, here between your eyes, when you're worried about something. Or the mischievous look in your eyes when you play a prank on Hannibal or BA. Or the way that you've always gone along with my craziness and you've always seem to know how to calm me." he sighed "It feels good to finally tell you all this."

Face pressed their foreheads together. "I'm glad too. Are there anymore secrets?"

"Maybe one or two," he smirked. "but they only ones I won't tell you are the ones I'm not allowed."

"Are there a lot of them?"

"Only one."


	14. Chapter 14

Light coming in the window the next morning woke Face, HM was curled into his chest and he squeezed the pilot closer before pressing a kiss into his hair. They had talked late into the night, HM telling him about his travels, things that he could never explain without saying that they had happened centuries ago. Face glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table, which read a little after nine am when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Boys?" Hannibal's voice came, "Are you awake?"

"Face, are we awake?" the pilot asked, lifting his head from Face's chest

"Don't know? Is it worth moving?" he tighten his grip on HM.

"I thinks so." HM said with a sigh. "Boss is probably upset. The plan keeps changing on him."

"We've be right out, Boss!" Face yelled, then groaned as the pilot rolled out of bed and threw him his clothes. Just as HM was about to open the door, Face grabbed him and pressed him into the door, kissing him deeply. "I love you."

HM grinned at him, before spinning them, pushing him back, kissing him eagerly. _"Ik Druerie Yow, Leor, Swa Muchel."_ he whispered against Face's lips. _"Leuere panne Ik Eure Pank Ik Couthe. Ik Con Naht Witen __To-comen Wit Yow. I-cnowen Wat Hit Es Ilich Felen Yow Undere Mi." _

Face let his head fall back against the door. He didn't really understand what the pilot was saying, but he thought he might be developing a language kink as HM ground against him. With one last kiss the pilot spun them again and opened the door.

Face followed him at a slower pace. Kyleen was standing behind the stove, while Hannibal was sitting at the table. HM passed him a cup of coffee as they sat as well.

"In the ten years that we've been a team Murdock, you were the last one I ever thought would withhold information from me." HM's shoulders sank and his hands tightened around his cup. Hannibal held up a hand to stave off Face's defense. "I understand why you didn't tell us before now, but as soon as it became evident that McCormack was who we were up against, you should have said something, anything, particularly as he seems to have a vendetta against you. My plans are only successful if I have all the information. So tell me, what does he have against you?"

Kyleen came over, placing plates in front of them, squeezing HM's shoulder as she passed.

"From Alistair's point of view, I stole two very valuable possession from him." he sighed and Face watched as his sea green eyes went distant. "I first met him in 1811. It was shortly after Kyleen found out that the person she knew hundreds of years ago as Alec was immortal and going by Dr Benjamin Adams. She had gone off to yell at Rebecca for keeping it from her, leaving me and Doc Adams in London. Doc's work was considered controversial, but he was still a popular figure among the elite. Countess Brendan-Heath was giving a Ball and Doc had invited me along."

Face listened as HM's voice slowly morphed from the Texas draw that he normal used to Received Pronunciation. In his minds eye he could see it, using all the period pieces that HM had made him watch, he could see HM and Adam standing in at the entrance of a grand  
>Ballroom.<p>

_"How long has it been since you were in London last?" the doctor asked. _

_ "At least a century, give or take a decade." _

_ "So you can be anyone you wish to be? Duke, Count, Earl?"_

_ "As tempting as those are, I think I'll just be another wealthy country Squire coming to town for the season. Thought I don't think I'll use Hamish. I've been using that steadily for the last three hundred years."_

_ "James, then?"_

_ "I've considered that, but not for tonight."_

_ "Very well. How about Christopher Winterton. "_

_ "Christopher Winterton" he repeated the name to himself a couple times, before nodding in agreement. _

_ "Christopher Winterton Esq, who helps me with my research, I think. That should impress some of the ladies" _

_ They moved through the receiving line into the ballroom, exchanging pleasantries with those they pass. _

_ "Why do I feel like I've just stepped onto the block?" He commented to Adams as a group of girls started giggling as the passed._

_ "I know. I do not know what is worse, the giggling or the calculating looks." they nodded to a pair of vulture looking matrons, heads cocked to the sides as their eyed raked up and down their persons. Judging potential wealth by looks, posture, clothes and manner. _

_ Finally making it into the Ballroom proper, Dr. Adams introduced the newly minted Christopher Winterton to some of his acquaintances. The conversation flowed easily and as more introductions were made they were even persuaded to stand up for a handful of dances by the bolder, and desperate, mothers. It wasn't too long after the last dance that the Doctor was called away by the hostess. _

_ Left to his own devices, HM circled the room. A few introduction were made by the more friendly men, but he declined the invitation to chat for awhile and continued to moved through the rooms. He nodded politely at the matrons, winked at a few girls, and even smiled just right at a few of the young men._

_ Procuring a cup of punch, he found a secluded place along the wall to watch the young women standing in groups, gigging, gossiping, pointing out young men, before blushing. The older women also stood in groups gossiping, trading information about each potential match for their daughters. _

_ But the two woman that caught his attention were standing quietly on the other side of the room from him. A young girl of about sixteen, dark brown hair in ringlets, her pale blue dress was in the most fashionable style, but he could tell that she was uncomfortable in it, as she adjusted and readjusted her shawl. Her mother, who looked scarcely older then her, yet had dark brown eyes that looked ancient, stood behind her. Both were very pretty, but were looking around nervously. He smiled at the younger of the two as their eyes met and started to move around the room to them._

_ "I hope you will forgive me the liberties of introducing myself," he said once he reached them. "But of all the people here, you look the most in need of someone to talk to. Christopher Winterton." He said with a bow. _

_ "Cynthia McCormack, and this is my daughter Emily." both women curtseyed and he bowed again. _

_ "It is a pleasure to meet you both. I have only arrived in Town a few day ago, and the only other person I truly know has been claimed by our hostess."_

_ "Where do you hale from, Mr. Winterton?" Cynthia McCormack asked._

_ "Oh, my estate is in Kent. We've been there for centuries it seems." Two at least, that's when he bought the manor house, not that he'd been there in the last decade. Mrs. McCormack smiled, it brightened her eyes._

_ "I was born in Kent. Thought my family moved here to London when I was just a small girl." _

_ "Mama?" Emily said nervously, taking a step back to her mothers side, looking over HM's shoulder. He frowned and was about to inquire when the present of another immortal swept over him. He turned, thinking the Doctor had returned, but came face to face with a stranger. He was tall, fashionably dressed, brown hair pulled back into a tail, but his black eyes were cold, hard and empty. _

_ "Alistair McCormack" he stated._

_ "Christopher Winterton." They bowed and stared at each other, sizing each other up. The presents fading into the back of his mind, the scowl on his lips and the quirk of his eyebrow all told HM that the man standing in front of him was relatively young, not much older then the mid-forties that he looked. McCormack raked him with his eyes once more before turning back to the women. _

_ "Have you danced with the Viscount, yet?" he inquired of Emily._

_ "No, sir." she said meekly. _

_ "Why not? Well come on!" he grabbed her arm and pulled her away. She stumbled and lost hold of her shawl. She quickly caught it again, but not before HM saw the four oblong purple marks staining her upper arm._

_ "Please excuse my husband." Mrs. McCormack said with a strained smile, watching them leave. "He's eager for a match."_

_ "I see. I know this will seem impertinent, but have you been married to him long?" the look on Mrs. McCormack had him smiling ruefully. "Your daughter resembles you more then your husband. Please forgive me for assuming a second marriage." she seemed to contemplating being offended, but as she looked at him, she sighed and gave him a real smile. He offered his arm and they strolled around the room._

_ "Eight years ago my first husband ventured to India to make our fortune. His business was successful, but he never returned. Alistair was Geoffrey's partner. A few months after he returned to inform me of Geoffrey's death, he proposed. A widow with an eight year old child...it seemed like the best decision at the time." They had circled around into the room set aside for dancing. He nearly stumbled as two immortal signatures had him looking around. _

_ Dr. Adams was laughing with the Countess a few steps away. McCormack was standing on the other side of the room, arms folded, staring at his step daughter and who she was dancing with. He turned and entered a conversation with the man standing next him. From the similarities of feature, HM assumed it was the father of the young man Emily was dancing with. _

_ "Christopher." Adams said, motioning him over. "Our hostess, Countess Brendan-Heath."_

_ "Countess." he bowed. "Thank you for letting the good Doctor invite me along. May I present Mrs. Cynthia McCormack."_

_ "Mrs. McCormack, is it not your daughter that my son is dancing with?"_

_ "Yes, my Lady."_

_ "I thought her a handsome girl when they started dancing, now I see why. I sure that she will not require more than one season." HM thought that Cynthia blushed prettily as she mumbled her thanks. The women fell into conversation and HM's eyes were drawn back to Emily. She was talking animatedly with her partner, who was enjoying the her bright smiles. Thought he frowned again as she spun and her dress billowed a little under her nape. Another purple mark blemished her pale skin. _

_ His eyes flicked to Cynthia McCormack. It was warm in the room, yet her shawl was pinned firmly around her shoulder. Also, the sleeves of her dress were long, unfashionably long. She wasn't old enough to get away with being unwilling to change and it didn't fit with a mother trying to impress the elite to make a match for her daughter. _

_ He felt his eyes drifting back to McCormack. Going by the motion of his hands and the florid complexion on his features, his conversation with the Earl weren't going the way he wanted. The dance ended and he stalked over to Emily and pulled her away, leaving a bewildered Viscount. _

_ "Trouble, Darling?" The Countess asked when the Earl returned to her side, taking his wife's hand with a shake of his head. _

_ "Can you believe the man had the audacity to ask for a bride price? To offset the dowry, he said."_

_ Cynthia McCormack's shoulders slumped and her head bowed. "Madam, I've been still too long, would you take a turn about the room with me?" he offered his arm. She gladly accepted it. They passed the buffet table, each taking a cup, before wandering out into the garden. _

_ "I can't believe he would do that!" she said, sitting on a bench. "Is he trying to damage Emily's chances. We don't need it and he is settling so little on her as it is." she set the cup down._

_ "Does Miss Emily have no fortune of her own?"_

_ "No, it would have been set up after Geoffrey returned home. He was not worried about not returning so the only precautions he took was to make sure that any money made was settled on me." she sighed, "I'm sorry to trouble you with all this, Mr. Winterton."_

_ "Christopher, please."_

_ "Cynthia, then." he nodded and raised her hand to his lips. He heard a slight inhalation and thought that he might have gone too far. Whatever look was in her eyes, he never found out as McCormack came out into the garden. _

_ "Cynthia, we're leaving!"_


	15. Chapter 15

_He was overjoyed to run into the two McCormack women walking in St. James Park just after midday a few days later. They spent the rest of the afternoon walking along the lake. Before they parted at sunset, it was agreed that he would dine with them the following evening._

_McCormack seemed in better spirits then._

_"Mr. Winterton." he said, walking up to him with a smile and an outstretched hand. "Pleases excuse my behavior the other day. I'm sure you realize the pressure upon parents during The Season."_

_"Of course." they walked into the drawing-room._

_"I was intrigued when Cynthia said that she saw you at the park yesterday and was glad to hear that my behavior the other day didn't deter you from an association. I'm still new to this immortal business and have only met a handful of us. Would you like a drink?"_

_"Would you mind if I inquire how long you've been immortal?" He asked, swirling the glass before taking a sip._

_"Only sixty years."_

_"So, you've had a teacher?"_

_"Oh, yes. Old Alfred" he said with a laugh. "The first one of us I met. Told me all the rules, helped me with my sword work. Didn't stay around long, though." HM set down the glass. Something about that last sentence seemed...off. "Have you been in Town for a Season before?"_

_"Not since it became what it currently is. This is the first time I've been to London in the last century years. I have been traveling in the East, lately."_

_"Business ventures?"_

_"There were some, but mostly it was for pleasure."_

_"Oh." HM fidgeted as McCormack sounded both disappointed and intrigued. All further conversation was hauled as the women came downstairs. He found himself seated across from Emily._

_As the servants set out the meal, there was a strained silence. It ended after the servants left and Emily sat up straighter and seem to stifle a squeak, looking at her stepfather, before turning to him.  
>"Mr. Winterton, what hobbies do you have." she asked.<em>

_"Ballooning." he replied as the began to eat._

_"Ballooning?"_

_"Yes. Have you ever seen a hot air balloon?" all three shook their heads. "It is unlike anything you have ever experienced. To be floating above the ground, not just feeling the wind but going where it wills. You seem to become part of the sky."_

_"It sounds exciting." Emily said_

_"It is. When the weather clears I'll take you up." he said, then looked at McCormack, who was staring at him with a certain look in his eyes. "With permission, of course."_

_"Of course."_

_The meal was pleasant. Conversation flowed much easier after that. His opinion of McCormack didn't change any though, especially after he saw the fading mark on the back Cynthia's neck. After the last course was served the conversation turned to the social calendar as they tried to find an event that they all were going to attend._

_"I believe that Dr. Adams said that he was invited to the gathering at Almack's Assembly room this Friday." he mentioned._

_"I leave on buisness tomorrow moring and will be gone for a fortnight." McCormack told them, before staring at him. "The women will have no one to escort them, unless, Mr. Winterton, will you be willing to escort them."_

_"Oh! Please do, Mr. Winterton!" Emily said, "I so would like to go."_

_He arrived at the McCormack's townhouse on Friday a little early. It was a great relife to the household staff as Emily had been ready for half an hour and was pacing through the house._

_"Please, sir" George, the butler said. "keep her occupied until the Misses is ready. It won't be much longer." seeing a deck of cards laying on the sideboard, he pulled her into the drawing-room and entertained her with a few card tricks he knew. It was another quarter of an hour before Cynthia came downstairs. The deep sapphire of her dress and the elegant twist to her dark hair were breathtaking, specially as it accentuated her pale complexion._

_"Oh, Mama! You look beautiful." Emily exclaimed._

_HM agreed, but as she descended the last step, he frowned. The current mores of the time held that it was improper for women to wear makeup. He had been around enough actors to see it, no matter how well it had been applied. And it was masterfully done. He doubted the anyone else would see it._

"_I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Winterton."_

_"It was my pleasure." he said, once again pressing her hand to his lips. As he did so, his eyes grazed her face. He could just see a purplish-green tint under the powder. He clenched his teeth and tried to keep his smile intact. Each of the women took an arm and he escorted them out to his carriage._

_Dr. Adams was waiting for them outside when they arrived at Almack's. He greeted them pleasantly, but give HM a telling look. As the entered the dancing was starting. The first set was barely done before a young man asked if Emily would stand up with him during the next one. She agreed and her mother followed to watch. He and the Doctor preceded into the smoking room and found a quite place to talk._

_"James, I hope you know what you are getting into."_

_"Do you suggest that I do nothing?" he asked._

_"No." Adams said. "I am just making sure you understand the consequences. The law is not on you side. And there is the possibility that you will only make things worse for them. I've been around long enough to have seen it transpire that way numerous time. The best way to help them would be to help the younger one find a husband who will allow her to keep her mother with her."_

_"I know." He sighed. The doctor was called away by an acquaintance and he returned to the women._

_Emily was dancing with a different young man. As the song ended yet another came up. This was good, he thought. Her being popular would go a long way to helping if he was going to try to get here married before McCormack returned. He examined her as she danced. Her brown hair was pleasantly done up with small white flowers in it. Her dress was of a pale blue. Both went along way to displaying her complexion._

_Feeling eyes on him he turned to Cynthia, who was smiling proudly._

_"She is very pretty, is she not, Mr. Winterton?" she asked. "I'm sure she will make a good wife for a very lucky man." The sadness in the sentence had him blinking as he realized what she meant._

_"Would your Husband approve?"_

_"Alistair mentioned the possibility before he left." Cynthia replied softly, eye focusing on the floor. "I said I would inquire."_

_Looking back at the dancing girl, he contemplated it. It would be the simplest and quickest way to remove both women from McCormack's influence. He thought of his beloved Alice, gone well over two centuries now, and the home he had with her. It had been so long since he had that. He was sure whatever he could create with Emily would be just as nice, he was even sure that he would begin to love her after awhile. But..._

_He could always just take McCormack's head._

_Pushing all thoughts away, he cajoled Cynthia out onto the dance floor. The smile she threw him brightened her eyes._

_It was an hour after midnight when they returned to the McCormack's townhouse. Emily wished them good night and retired, still dancing up the stairs._

_"Would you like a brandy, Mr. Winterton?"_

_"Please and as I said before, it's Christopher."_

_"Christopher." she smiled as she handed over the glass. They settled in front of the fire in the drawing-room. He watched as the smile left her eyes and lips. "Have you considered the offer?" her hands fluttered and she picked up the needlework at her feet. HM sighed. The firelight reflected off her face in a way that the purple bruise stood out clearly under the power. He put the glass down._

_"I'll do my best in the next few weeks to help you find someone for Emily will treat her with respect. Someone who will not mind whatever your husband demands. Someone who will protect you from him as well."_

_"Me?" she looked up, startled. "Whatever do you mean?" he leaned forward onto his knees in front of her. Bringing his hand up, he carefully ran his thumb across her cheekbone, wiping some of the power away. She inhaled sharply at the contact. He was scared that he had hurt her, but that was not what was in her eyes._

_"I think I should go." he whispered, and while she nodded, their eyes never left each others._


	16. Chapter 16

_ It was that moment that he was thinking about as he lay in bed in the early hours of the morning a week later. He rolled out of bed and padded over to the fire, stoking it to throw heat into the room to combat the early spring chill. He sighed as he replaced the poker._

_ He was to meet with his Mr. Hillson today. He was happy that he had a solicitor who was also a Watcher because some of the things that McCormack and Cynthia had said didn't add up. He threw some kindling on the emerging flames, mind going over what Hillson had told him already. _

_ The first thing he had found out was that sixty years ago, Alfred Barnes had found a newly immortal Alistair McCormack. Six weeks later Alfred had lost his head. Then there was McCormack's partnership with Geoffrey Ross. A partnership that Hillson seemed to think only exist on papers dated a week after Cynthia's first husband was found beaten to death. Hillson also said that he thought he might have found paperwork trying to transfer the £30,000 into McCormack's name. Over half of which, Hillson told him, was gone._

_ Sighing, he stood. McCormack was to return in five days and he had hoped to have Emily in a marriage contract by now, something legal that McCormack couldn't challenge. But the rumor of McCormack asking for a Bride Price had spread. While many young gentleman were interested, none wanted to pay for what they could get for free. He knew the option of marrying Emily himself wasn't possible anymore._

_ He pushed off the mantel and crawled back into the bed, pulling Cynthia back against his chest, tenderly placing his lips against the yellow-green mark on her shoulder. This was probably one of the worst mistakes he had made in his three hundred years. It only complicated an already complicated situation._

_ Nuzzling into her neck, he lightly ran his hand down her side to her hip. He ghosted over the bruises there. Undressing her the first night, he had to bite his lips to keep the expression off his face at sheer amount of bruising that ran from hip to mid-thigh, evidence of McCormack ill use. Picking her up and placing her in the bed, he tried to be a gentle as possible during their lovemaking. As such he was horrified, when she curled into his chest afterward, to realize that she was crying. His heart sank as she tried to reassure him it was just that she had forgotten how nice it could be. At that moment he could have gladly taken McCormack's head with his bear hands. _

_ "Christopher." she murmured, turning in his arms. He kissed her awake._

_ "It's getting late," he said as her eyes finally opened. "I need to go." since it was easier to explain him walking alone in the early morning hours and it lessened the chance of exposing her to a scandal, they were in her chambers. She moaned and nuzzled into his chest, tightening her hold on him. "Don't go." she lifted her leg over his hip, pulling him to settle over her, hand scrunching up his nightshirt. He smiled, taking her mouth as he hiked up her own nightshirt. _

_ "I need to go." he said again a little while later. The sky outside the window was starting to get light._

_ "You're joining us at the park today?" she asked._

_ "Yes." he kissed her again. "I have an errand in the day, but I'll meet you here at half eleven."_

_ He dressed and slipped out the servants door. Taking side streets and back alleys, it took him ten minutes to arrive back at Doctor Adams' townhouse. His entry into the kitchen was met with a sword. _

_ "Should have know it was you." the doctor said, dropping the sword. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to straighten his nightshirt. "Is this early morning wake up call going to persist or will I be able to sleep the night through soon? When the husband comes back, will you please just take his head and be done with it!"_

_ He disappeared down the hall. HM started the fire under the stove and walked over to the pantry. The surface was just warm enough to start when Adams walked back into the room, this time dressed for the day. After a couple of minutes HM put a rudimentary breakfast on the table. _

_ "A you received a package yesterday."_

_ "It arrived?"_

_ "I had it put in your room. It was quite large." HM looked upwards, as if he could see the package through the floors above._

_ "I had it made specially for Emily. A cross between a traditional kite and a Chinese lantern. I'm glad it arrived today, we're going to the park and the wind is just right."_

_ The doctor finished his breakfast putting the dishes in the sink for the maid to clean later. "James, you are going to challenge McCormack, correct?" _

_ "Yes. I think...I think it's the only way." he set down his fork. "It's not like I don't think I can't beat him, but I don't like to fight if I don't have to." _

_ The Doctor smirked at him. "That would be my doing." he continued when HM looked at him, curious. "Rebecca might be the one who taught Kyleen about being immortal, but she did travel with me for seven years. And one of the first things I taught her is that it's better to live and grow stronger, then fight. I'm glad to see that it stuck enough for her to pass onto her own students. I'll be in my lab most of the day."_

_ HM nodded as the doctor left. He finished his own breakfast and hurried up the stairs to his chamber. He washed and dressed for the day, then turned to the package on his bed. He spent the next hour making sure it hadn't been damaged in transit and that it would work properly for Emily. _

_ Packing it away in a bag, he was surprised to discover a thick letter under the packing paper. He smiled to see it was from Kyleen and flopped on the bed to read it, smiling even more as a note from Rebecca fell out. After reading them, he sat at the desk. He was notoriously bad at corresponding so it took him almost to the time that he was to meet his solicitor to compose a reply to Rebecca and had to leave the letter to Kyleen half done._

_ It was a little passed eleven when he left Hillson's office with a spring in his step as he hailed a Hackney. Telling the driver the address, he sat back and took out the papers that Hillson had given him. Papers that proved that the remaining £11,000 belonged solely to Mrs. Cynthia Ross McCormack. The papers also had enough evidence to take to the police concerning McCormack's involvement in the death of Geoffrey Ross. He slipped the papers back into the bag as the cab pulled up to the curb. _

_ "Hello, George." when the butler opened the door. _

_ "Good afternoon, sir. The women are in the front parlor."_

_ "Thank you." he handed over his hat and cane. He stopped in the doorway. The two women were seated by the fire, needlework in hand, talking quietly. He smiled softly, thinking of the outcome of his plan._

_ Emily looked up and smiled as she saw him. "Mr. Winterton, please sit down." she gestured to the seat next to her. He walked into the room, sitting next to Cynthia. Emily put her needlework aside. _

_ "Here." He retrieved the papers and handed them to Cynthia, while taking the items out of the bag. She blinks at him, before opening them. He laid the pieces on the floor and spent the next ten minutes explaining them to Emily. Who was bouncing in place in excitement. She ran upstairs to get her wrap, leaving the door partially open. He sat next to Cynthia, who was still looking at the papers._

_ "Christopher? What..."_

_ "I hope you don't mind. I had my solicitor look into a few things. By now, Hillson should have transferred the rest of the money into an account that only you have access to. These," he said taking the non financial papers, "He sent by secure messenger to a trusted friend in the London Police."_

_ "Do you really think that Alistair was involved with Geoffrey's death?"_

_ "Yes." he told her gently, taking her hand._

_ "What am I going to do?"_

_ "Marry me." he grinned at her._

_ "Marry you! But...I'm...even if Alistair was arrested for Geoffrey's death the courts would never grant me a divorce."_

_ "True, but he now has no money and he's deeply in debt with people who will not take kindly to being shorted. I do not think that he will make it to court." she didn't need to know that he was going to challenge him. "Will that bother you?" he lifted her arm and kissed where one of her bruises hid under the long sleeve. Her breath shuddered and her eyes told him that what bothered her was that it didn't bother her. _

_ "Please, Cynthia, marry me." He cupped her cheek. "We'll be a family. Me, you and Emily, for the few years we might still have her. Next season, everything that McCormack's done to ruin her chances will be erased. Please?" _

_ She was still staring at him in shock, but he could see the idea turning over in her mind. He head lowered and he thought that maybe she was going to decline, when she met his eyes again. She was smiling. He echoed her, whopping for joy, pulling her to stand, wrapping his arms around her. _

_ "Say it, please?" he asked, head resting on her forehead. "I want to hear it out loud." she leaned back and cupped his cheek._

_ "I love you, Christopher, and I will gladly marry you."_

_ He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her slowly, waiting for her to respond, deepening it when her mouth opened. He was softening the kiss, knowing that Emily was going to be back soon, when something had him taking a step back suddenly. There was the sound of a small explosion, the room filled with smoke and Cynthia screamed. He looked down to see the rapidly expanding red spot on his shirt, glad he had stepped back as it meant the bullet didn't go through him and into Cynthia. He managed to turn to see McCormack standing in the doorway, one hand outstretched, with the pistol still in it. Emily's arm clenched painful in his other hand._

_ He heard Cynthia call his name and he was falling._


	17. Chapter 17

_He could feel the blood in his veins, the red cells settling on the bottom. He could feel the stillness in his chest, the left side not fluttering, the strangeness of knowing that his lungs were deflated, but not feeling the need to take a breath. _

_ This was one experience that he would never get use to. It didn't happen every time, but it was damn disconcerting when his conscious mind returned before the rest of his body did._

_ He knew it was going to be soon, and even as he thought that, the still organ in the left side of his chest beat once. Then again. And again. His blood was sluggishly pushed forward, moving little by little with every beat, until it reached his lungs. There it demanded oxygen, causing his lungs to inflate. As the oxygen-rich blood reached his brain, he started getting messages from the rest of his senses. He could feel the floor under him. He could smell the smoke from the pistol. And as his sight returned, he could hear Cynthia crying._

_ Turning his head, gasped again. This time not because of air forcing it's way into his lungs, but because he saw Emily laying on the floor, eyes closed, blood pooling under her head. From impact with the side table, he thought as a drop of blood fell from the corner. He was relived when he saw her eyes flutter under her lids, she wasn't dead yet._

_ A wet sound caught his attention as he sat up. McCormack had Cynthia by the arm, twisting it so that she was on her knees in front of him. As he watched, McCormack hauled back his arm, closed fist ramming into her face, the left side of which was already swollen. She tried to turn away, but he dropped her arm and grabbed the back of her head. Her nose was broken, streaming red down her dress._

_ Neither had noticed that he had revived. He jumped up, grabbing McCormack's arm as it swung again. McCormack let go of Cynthia, who fell back, screaming again. Taking advantage of McCormack's shocked look, he threw a punch, knocking him father away from Cynthia._

_ "How have you revived already?" McCormack asked. HM blinked at him, before realizing that McCormack was not only young, but a coward, and only preyed on the weak. As such, HM wavered, hand going out to pretend to steady himself. It worked. "I'll just take your head now!" he grabbed his cane, pulled the sword from inside and swung at HM, who ducked and lunged at McCormack._

_ They hit the floor. The sword went flying out of McCormack's hand. They grappled, rolling back and forth. Hitting the sideboard, he brought his knees up to try and pin the man, but as he moved, something skitter across the floor. The pistol was within reach. He looked up to see George standing in the doorway. They grabbed for it at the same time, they both had their fingers on the trigger as it disappeared between them. _

_ With another pop the room filled with smoke again. The figure under him went still. He rolled off of Mccormack, gasping for breath, motioning George inside. _

_ "Take Miss Emily upstairs and send a messenger to this address." he scribbled onto a piece of paper. "And send Cynthia's maid in." Once the Butler left he approached Cynthia. She scuttled back to the wall, eyes wide._

_ "It's alright now." he told her, dropping to his knees. "He's gone, he can't hurt you anymore." he handed her a handkerchief. She looked at hesitantly before taking it. "I sent for the doctor, he'll be here soon to take care of you and Emily." he reached out to her, but she seemed to shrink back. He was glad when her maid came in. She latched onto the other woman who escorted her up to her chambers. He watched them go._


	18. Chapter 18

_ While he was alone, he walked over to McCormack, pulled a dagger out of his boot, and dropping to his knees, thrust the knife into McCormack's heart. _

_ "That should keep you incapacitated." he stood just as the Butler reentered the room. _

_ "George, I need-" the Butler was already holding out a large canvas bag. He handed it over, fiddling with something around his neck. _

_ "You are not going to take his head?" His eyes shot over to the other man, mouth closing as he saw the pendent now hanging from the Butler's neck. _

_ "You're his Watcher?"_

_ "Yes," he man nodded. "and we are not supposed to be involved, but I was hoping that you would challenge him since you showed up. The Misses and Miss Emily have been the happiest I've ever seen them in the last week. HM shook his head._

_ "The quickening would draw too much attention." he said. _

_ Together they managed to get McCormack into the canvas bag, which they took through the kitchen and loaded onto a waiting cart. Being as nonchalant as possible, they drove to a disreputable part of the city and dumped it into the Thames._

_ Doc Adams was coming down the stairs when they returned._

_ "How are they?"_

_ "Cynthia is resting. I've set her nose, it should heal properly. I've also instructed her maid on how to make a poultice to lower the swelling. I've given her something for the pain, it should keep her out for the rest of the day, hopefully after that she will sleep throughout the night naturally."_

_ "And Emily?"_

_ "I've cleaned and bandaged the wound. The skull was fractured, but it does not look like the brain was damaged, but head wounds are deceptive. I'll know more when she wakes."_

_ He nodded and darted up the stairs, stopping when the Doctor grabbed his wrist. _

_ "James, she's been through a lot, go slow."_

_ "Of course." he nodded again and hurried upstairs._

_ Adams was correct that she didn't wake up until late the next morning. He was sitting next to her on the bed, gently stroking his hand through her hair on the right side. Her left eye was swelling shut and the right was nearly so. He knew the moment she awoke as she jerked away from him. _

_ "It's alright, it's just me." He told her slowly. "McCormack's not here. He's not coming back. He can never hurt you again. Careful," he said as she pushed herself up to lean against the headboard. He rushed around the side and tried to help, reaching to arrange the pillows behind her. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, causing her to swallow harshly. "Would you like some water?" he grabbed the glass of the nightstand. Sitting on the bed, he moved to place the glass at her lips, but again, she backed away from him. "Do...do you want me to send Jane in?" he asked softly, setting the glass down. She nodded, so he stood and went to find her maid. _

_ He sat on a chair staring forlornly at the door to her chamber while the maid was with her. He barely even noticed when Doctor Adams stopped next to him. _

_ "I just checked on Emily. The stitches are holding and I see no leakage. I'm optimistic that, in time, she will make a full recovery."_

_ "Good." even he could tell his voice was dull. _

_ "James?"_

_ "She seemed afraid of me." the Doctor sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder, he knelt down next him, trying to meet his eyes._

_ "James, she was just beaten to within an inch of her life by her husband. I'm surprised that she let me treat her yesterday with out flinching." he squeezed the shoulder he was holding. "Give her time."_

_ The door opened and the maid stepped out._

_ "She's asleep again." Adams nodded._

_ "Come with me" he told her. "I'd like to examine her when it won't upset her more." HM watched as the door shut again._

_ Since he had to wait, he decided to be productive. It would be days before McCormack was found, but he didn't want the women to be here if the man came back. He left the house to arrange somewhere for them to go, but not before instructing the servants to pack Emily and Cynthia's trunks. It was a few hours later that he returned with the keys to a house in another part of town. The deed in his hands listed under Cynthia and Christopher Winterton. _

_ "The trunks are packed and ready to go, Mr. Winterton." George told him when he returned. "the Doctor is upstairs preparing Miss Emily for travel and Miss Cynthia is awake." _

_ He hurried up the stairs, stopping the Emily's room to talk to Doctor Adams, before continuing on to Cynthia's chamber. He knocked hesitantly on the door waiting for her to answer before entering. As he stepped in, she sat up straighter in the bed._

_ "How are you feeling?"_

_ "I'm find." she mumbled out of one side of her mouth._

_ "Good." he raised the hand with the papers, "I have something for you, can I sit?" he motioned to a chair next to the bed. _

_ It took her a few moments, before she nodded. He pulled the chair a step farther away and passed the papers over. Her hands trembled as she took them. _

_ "I think it's best for us to move somewhere else, a clean start. Of course...until you are ready...I'll stay with Doctor Adams." her eyes snapped to his, he tried to smile reassuringly. "Then after we are married, and Emily's had another Season, I'll take you to my house in Kent." she inhaled sharply and he held up his hands placatingly. "Not now," he told her, "As I said, when you feel ready, I know it might me a while before..." he trailed off, a thought occurring to him. "You do...Cynthia, emdo/em you still wish to marry me?"_

_ His heart clenched as the silence seemed to speak for her._

_ "Oh." he looked down at the papers in her hands. "I'll have my name removed." he reached out, and with the very tips of her fingers, she passed them back to him. "Do...do you want me to put the house in your maiden name?"_

_ The papers were still open and he looked down at their names on them. It hit him then just how much he wanted to marry Cynthia, not just to save her and her daughter from McCormack, but to have a family again. To have a wife, someone to come home to, a child, who grown and hopefully married, would look to him throughout her life. And with Emily there was the possibility of grandchildren and great grandchildren, generations for him to look after._

_ "I don't mean to pressure you, because I know that you are scared after what McCormack did, but do you think...maybe in the future... you might change your mind?"_

_ He swallowed hard as she vehemently shook her head. He nodded and stood up to go, making it halfway to the door before he stopped and turned back._

_ "Why?" he asked, pleadingly. "You know that I would never let anyone hurt you this way again. Was there something I did between yesterday afternoon and now?"_

_ "Yes."she said with a shudder. He was going to ask her what it was, that he would fix it, but when he looked up he stopped cold. Her eyes were filled with horror, revulsion and fear. "What are you, Christopher? You were dead. I felt your heart stop. It's unnatural."_

"WHAT?" Face blinked, startling himself by speaking out loud. The other three were looking at him. "It's just, shouldn't she have been happy that you were still alive?"

"Different time period, _Leor_." Kyleen said with a head shake and squeezed HM's hand.

"What happened next, Captain?"

"What could I do." he shrugged. "I left, put the deed in her name, made sure they got moved into the new house, then I came to the US." he finished his coffee in one gulp, and stood. "I'm going to get our bags." he mounted the stairs, closed the door and it didn't open for a while.


	19. Chapter 19

Face's coffee had long since gone cold, yet he still sat at the table. His mind kept going over the last thing HM told them. He tried to put himself in to Cynthia's position, but that didn't help. HM was trying to save her from an abusive relationship, was going to marry her, live with her for the rest of her life. How could she give him up? Particularly as she had seen him die once already. He shivered, remembering McCormack's sword arcing towards the immortal's neck. Even now he wanted to run up stairs and wrap himself around the pilot, thankful that they were together.

A pained grunt had him jerking his head up. Bosco was lowering himself into the chair across from him. His left arm was pressed tightly to his side.

"Hey, Big guy, how are you feeling?"

"Okay, still a little pained,just sick of laying down."

"You hungry? I could fix you something."

"Naw, I'm good, man, well, I could use a coffee." Face grinned as got up. He set it down as Bosco looked around. "Where are we? You must have scammed this place in a hurry, or is it the Doc's place?"

Face blinked at him. "No," he said slowly, "It's not Adam's"

"Oh, who's is it? And more importantly, what happened to the woman? You didn't leave the body in my van, did you?"

"Um...she's in the basement." Face said, blinking again. He really didn't want to be the one to explain the whole immortal thing.

"We should do something about that, but I'm sure the boss is on it. So how's the job goin'?" he asked. "I thought Boss said something about the Doc helping out?"

"Yeah, Adam went with me when I went to the office of the construction company. But the job...every time we think it should be wrapping up, something comes up. It also seems that HM has a past with the guy were going up against."

"HM?" the mechanic's eyebrow lifted. "I take it you and Crazy finally stopped dancing around each other?"

"Yeah." Face blushed and looked down to swirl the remaining coffee in the mug. When he looked back up, he could feel the stupid smile on his lips. "Yeah, we did."

"Good. About damn time!" he laughed, then grunted, pressing his arm against his side. "So, How does Crazy know the bad guy?"

Face leaned back and waited until BA had taken a sip of the coffee, before he replied. "HM stole his wife."

"What!" coffee sprayed the table. "Murdock? Are you sure?"

"Yep! He sat right where you are now and told us this morning."

"I never thought that he would go after someone else's wife!"

"Well, he didn't intent for it that way. McCormack was abusive, and HM was trying to help. He-" Face stopped talking. The door to the basement opened and Kyleen stumbled into the room. Her hands were full with a banker's box.

"Hey, iLeor/i, I found some- Oh! Hello, Sgt. Baracus. I'm glad that you feel well enough to get out of bed." Bosco's mouth opened and closed a few times before he turned accusingly eyes on Face.

"What?" Face laughed. "I said she was in the basement."

"BUT SHE..I SAW...SHE WAS...HUH!

Kyleen looked back and forth between them. "Is there a problem?" she put the box down on the table.

"No, it's just the last time Bosco saw you, you were dead."

"Oh, right." she turned to BA. "Don't worry about it, Sgt. Baracus, it was only temporary." she smiled sweetly at him.

"WHAT? YOU'RE AS CRAZY AS CRAZY!" Face couldn't help laughing at the look on Bosco's face. He was also glad the all the yelling had brought Hannibal inside. He let the Boss deal with the explaining because the door upstairs opened as well and HM was slowly descending the stairs. He stood and walked over to the pilot.

"Hey," he said softly. His fingers twitched and he curled his hand into a fist before he realized that he no longer had to keep from touching. Raising his hand, he ran it through HM's hair before bring it down to cup HM's cheek. "You okay?"

"Yeah," HM nodded, leaning into the hand. "You know I've always been a visual person and immortals have photographic recall. Sometimes...the memories are too clear. I forgot where I was, emwhen/em I was."

"Oh." Face whispered, taking a half step back. HM followed with a full step, bringing both his hands up to Face's cheeks.

"It was all in my head, I had to sort through the centuries, there was noting you could have done. I went upstairs because I didn't want to worry you. What you have done if I spent the last however long sitting on the couch staring at nothing?"

Face opened his mouth, then blinked. HM was right. He would have thought the pilot was falling into one of his episodes and would have tried to snap him out of it. Being poked and prodded to speak, move or just smile wouldn't have helped. "Oh."

HM laughed. "Yeah. And I am sorry. Next time I'll drag you with me. Maybe being wrapped up in your arms might help me remember quicker. I keep forgetting that it's allowed now. And so is this." he leaned up on his tiptoes and kissed the conman. Face quickly started kissing him back. Breaking the kiss, he pulled HM into a hug, burying his nose in HM's neck. "I love you, Templeton."

They stayed that way until HM giggled. "They're staring at us, aren't they?" he could hear the quite behind him and feel the eyes on his back. HM giggled again. He didn't let go of his pilot, but turned to see the table. Hannibal and BA were wearing indulgent grins and Kyleen had her hands up to her eyes and was miming taking a picture. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, kissed HM again, before they walked over to the table.

"What's this?" He asked, gesturing to the box on the table. She was still staring at him and HM a happy smile on her face, before shaking her head.

"This is just some things I found in the basement that I thought iLeor/i might like to see. It might also convince Sgt. Baracus of the truth."

"Awww, Kyleen, those aren't..." the pilot facepalmed.

"Don't worry, Hon, I have them separated by person." she reached in and pulled out an old fashion hat box and held it out to HM. The younger immortal sighed, before taking it and pulling Face over to the couch.

HM held the box in his lap, hands keeping it closed, staring at it ruefully. He glanced at Face out of the corner of his eye. "I guess I should be grateful that she let me do this on my own. If she was with us..." he shook his head and blushed.

"HM, are those...?"

"Yep!" he lifted off the lid. A closed, musty smell enveloped them. Inside the box were pictures. All kinds of pictures, modern processed 4x6's, polaroids, sepia toned 8x10's and as HM dug to the bottom of the box, a Daguerreotype. "This is probably what she wanted to show you." the pilot gently handed him the airtight case. He took it just as gingerly, knowing that any oxygen penetrating the frame would ruin the fragile image inside. "I had that taken in 1842."

Face tilted the frame so that the image was highlighted. HM sat there, leaning forward, elbow on one knee, head in hand, smirking. "I thought these took a long time?"

"They did. Most people sat up straight or leaned on a table, but that's the pose I wanted, so I sat like that for forty minutes. The photographer loved me. Kept asking me to come back. I had a whole series of them, but they were lost when my house in Philadelphia burnt down in 1902." he took the case back and carefully put it on the coffee table. The box slipped off of HM's lap, Face pull it into his own lap and began flipping through handfuls of photos. They weren't in any particularly order. A photo of HM wearing cutoff jeans and a Mickey Mouse shirt was flipped pass to a black and white one with him wearing a turn of the century suit. One or two out of every handhold he put aside to ask about later, but he stopped when he came to a group shot, frowning.

"This..." he said, staring at the nine rows of men, all in uniform. "I've seen this before."

"OH!" the pilot said, taking the picture. "I didn't know Kyleen had this." he smiled at it, fingers caressing it lightly. Face was still frowning, trying to remember where he's seen the picture before. He glanced at it again, there was something off about it, something missing in the foreground. He blinked, jaw dropping as it came to him.

"HM? You're in that picture?"

"Huh, yeah, here." he pointed to a man in the middle of group. Face held the grainy black and white photo up and sure enough he could make out HM standing there at attention. "You figure out where you saw it yet?"

"Yeah," he said staring at the original copy of the picture he had seen everyday on the wall in the training building while doing his pre-Ranger School course at Benning. "You weren't joking."

"Nope! I told you, I'm a Ranger, baby! November 1950, first class to graduate Ranger training. It wasn't quite like what you went through and the Ranger Department wasn't officially created until the next year, so it never went on my record." he shrugged. "I didn't mind, at the time it was a voluntary training course, and I went right back to what was left of the Air Corps."

"When and how many times have you joined the Army?"

"Just once, in 1928. At the time, I was running my own airline with a single Ford Trimotor. I tired to deliver some cargo through a storm and went down. After I revived, I started walking to the nearest town. There was a recruiter there for the newly named United States Army Air Corps. I was tired of flying from point A to point B, so I joined up."

"Is that why...I always wondered, if you love flying so much, why weren't you in the Air Force?"

"The Air Force as you know it didn't start until September of 1947. I had been in the Army for twenty years by then." he shrugged "I'm an Army Pilot."

They made their way through the photos that Face had set side and he was reaching into the box for more, when his stomach growled. He blinked and glanced at a clock to see that it was late afternoon.

"We'll go through the rest later." HM promised, putting the lid back. Kyleen and HM whipped up a meal and Face noticed that all through it, Bosco was quite. He wondered if the big guy believed what he had been told about immortality or thought that they were all playing an elaborate prank on him.

After the meal, he wanted to go back to the photos, but HM had darted upstairs and placed their bags in their bedroom. Falling next to Face on the couch, he also discreetly handed Face a tube. A very empty tube. Palming it, the conman sighed.

"I'll go get some more. Is there...um...do you have any preferences?"

"No." he said, then leaned in to whisper in Face's ear. "Just as long as it slippery enough to easy the way as I slide into you tonight. I've wanted you for the last ten years, and we are making love tonight, even if I have to liberate a bottle of cooking oil."

Face bit his lip to keep his groan in and shifted on the couch. Cock instantly hardening and straining against his fly. In all his imaginings, he never thought of HM as being the dominate seducer, and Damn if it didn't turn him on. He turned his head and could see nothing of the green-blue-gray of HM's eyes, the pupil was blown wide in lust. His hand went to the back of HM's head, pulling him in for a kiss. Tongues meeting forcefully, neither gaining or losing ground. Lips touched and teeth nibbled. Face pulled the smaller man into his lap. His hands ran down the pilot's back into the pockets of his jeans, pulling HM tight against him. The broke the kiss, gasping as their groins pressed together. HM rocked forward a few times, pulling more sounds out of Face's throat, grinning all the while. They leaned in for another kiss.

"HEY!" and jumped apart at Kyleen's yell. "As happy as I am that you two are together now, not in the living room!" HM groaned, rocking forward once more to rest his head on Face's shoulder.

Face pressed a kiss to the side of HM's head and slipped out from under him. Borrowing Kyleen's jeep, he drove into Seacouver. He drove around for a little while to try to calm down and decided if he just wanted to run into a drug store or if he wanted to look for a specialty shop. Thinking back to the look in HM's eyes and how he felt, average quality was all they needed so he pulled into a WalGreens. Five minutes later, he left the store, throwing one more wink at the blushing girl behind the counter.

He stopped just as the doors whooshed shut behind him. He didn't know what it was, but he was suddenly on edge. He took a step to the right, getting out of the way of the door. Looking left and right, he pressed himself against the wall before scanning the roofs of the building around him. He dug the keys out of his pocket as he slowly made his way back to the jeep. Opening the door, he threw the bag onto the passenger seat and had just lifted his foot to get in when his hand flew to his neck. He already knew what he would see as he pulled his hand away. The little dart with colorful feathers falling to the ground. He grabbed the roll-cage to keep upright as he heard footsteps. He eyes were fluttering even as he tried to turn.

"I know, I know." McCormack said. "This is all very cliche, but why try something new if this works."


	20. Chapter 20

Even as Face's eyes fluttered open he knew what he would see. An abandoned warehouse, windows gritty with dirt, maybe some broken. There would possibly be left over crates along the walls. And the chair he was tied to, wrists cuffed to the arms, ankles to the leg, would be in the middle of the open space. Hell, maybe even a single light on over his head and an intimidating looking tray of instruments to the side.

Sitting up straight, the clinking of cuff silenced any attempt to be quiet, he didn't know weather to be relived that he was wrong on most counts. The door to the warehouse had two by fours holding it together from where the van shattered the lock. At least it would be easier for the guys to find him. But that was probably what McCormack wanted.

Turning his head slightly, he sees McCormack sitting close by. The immortal has his legs propped up on a chair in front of him as he relaxed back as he read, as table next to him held an open laptop. Face knew that McCormack knew he was awake, even as he turned the page in his book. There was a few minutes of silence before Face had to speak up.

"Is this all?" he asked, putting as much condescension in his voice as possible.

"For now." the other man said calmly, flipping another page. Face watch, tugging at the restrains on his arms and legs, as McCormack finished the chapter. It was just as the immortal was laying a piece of ribbon in the book as the computer next to him started beeping. "Ah, about time."

"I thought you were stuck in the 80's?" Face commented as McCormack fiddled with the laptop.

"While I do appreciate the simplicity of that era's technology, I do understand that there are some things that require more modern mechanisms." he typed a few more commands before plugging in a pair of external speakers.

Face wondered what he was up to as a telephone ringing echoed around the warehouse. But he couldn't help the deep breath he took as the phone was answered.

_"Hello?"_ HM said.

_"May I speak with a Kyleen McShane?"_ a male voice asked. There was muffled sounds as the phone changed hands. _"Is this Kyleen McShane?_" the voice asked again.

_"Yes."_

_"I'm Sgt. Rodgers of the Seacouver Police department. Do you own a 1999 Jeep Wrangler?_

_"Yes."_ she said slowly. _"I lent it to a friend who's visiting. Is everything okay?"_

_"Oh."_ the officer was the one who sounded surprised now. Papers could be heard shifting around. "_We found you vehicle abandoned in the parking lot of a WalGreens on Ceder Ave about half an hour ago. We assumed some kids stole it for a joyride. Could you give me a description of your friend?"_

_"Uh, yeah, let me pass you over to his Father."_ There was some more muffled sounds before Hannibal came on the line to give the office one of Face's false identities.

"That's enough of that." McCormack shut down the computer. "It won't take James too long to get here, so we must hurry." he stood and walked over to attach a chain to the cuffs already on Face's wrist. Once done with that, he moved away. All Face could hear was the squeak of metal, then suddenly he fell backward as the chair was tipped. More squeaking as a hook descended from the ceiling.

"I know this is all very awkward." McCormack said as he threaded the chain over the hook. "But you should take it as a complement. I've researched you and your friends. And since you are known for getting out of situations like this, I'm just making sure you're still here when James arrives." Face grimaced as the hook was raised, still tied to the chair, all his weight hanging on his wrists. When he was even with McCormack's head, the hook stopped. The immortal appeared on his left, smiling. Face prepared himself as the cuffs keeping the chair under him were unlocked. He swung down, shoulders jarring, to hang a foot off the ground.

"I wasn't joking about taking my attention as a complement." he reached out and stopped Face from swinging. "I don't usually work this hard. If you were anyone else, I would have killed you already. But you see, I'm in a bit of a conundrum because I really want you to watch James die, but at the same time I would be ever so satisfied if James watched _**you**_ die. So, how about we make history, huh?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long thin box. "In the past two hundred years, I had a lot of time to research James. Since our kind hide, it wasn't too easy at first, killing a Watcher helped, but I was able to find out about some of his early history." he opened the box and uncapped the syringe that was inside. "It was very difficult to find this, most doctors think it didn't survive into this time period. And the be truthful, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to use it." he grabbed Face's leg and injected the entire syringe. "Of course, this dose was much more virulent then the original, so instead of the three or four hours it would usual take, I'd be surprised if you last one. Congratulation, you'll be the first person to die of the Sweating Sickness in nearly four hundred and eighty years!"


	21. Chapter 21

It had been fifteen minutes since McCormack had injected him. The chains he was hanging from were clanking constantly from the shivers that were wracking him. He couldn't tell if the jerking motion from it was causing the ache in his arms, neck and head or it was from the disease. The coldness that pervaded made him think of Kyleen, if this is what she felt like when she froze to death. He also wondered how this disease got it's name if it made you feel so _**cold**_. He didn't think his body was capable of sweating right now.

He barely bit back a groan as a particularly violent shiver jerked his arms, but he couldn't help the gasp as scalding hot liquid started to run down his arm. He looked up to see that the restraints had cut into his wrist. The blood that trailed out felt molten against his cold skin. Lowering his head, he looked at McCormack.

The Immortal had gone back to his book and was calmly flipping through the pages.

After another five minutes, Face thought that the shivers were starting to ease. He still felt numb, but slowly, his body stopped moving. He hung limply, exhausted, for a moment as even the cold went away. His breath evened out, a full minute and everything seemed normal. He wondered, could it be...this disease died out four hundred years ago, could it be something that people had grown immune to. Wouldn't that just piss McCormack off. He started laughing. McCormack looked up from his book.

"Yes, I would laugh now, Lt. Peck. Stage two should start soon."

Stage two? He gathered his strength to raise his head, but the movement pulled at his damp shirt. Wait, damp? Looking at his chest, he saw that his white shirt was soaked. Even as he watched it become see-through, he could feel the sweat coursing down his arms and legs. Ha blinked it out of his eyes even as it dripped onto the cement floor under him.

The desert of Iraq hadn't even made his sweat this bad. What was worse was that he didn't know why he was sweating. The cold had melted way and he didn't feel hot, inside or out. It just seemed like his body was pouring all its moisture out of his pores. His hair was soaked and he was hanging above quite a puddle when McCormack jerked his head up, threw the book down, grabbed the sword leaning against the desk and disappeared into the shadows of the warehouse.

The door to the warehouse opened and HM walked in. the twilight outside illuminated him as his gaze took everything in. Face opened his mouth to call out when a furnace erupted inside of him. The heat was incredible and trying to make its way out of him. His gasps must have drawn the pilot's attention as he came running.

"FACE!" HM stopped in front of him, cupped his face, uncaring of the slick feel. Face tried to lick his lips, suddenly intensely thirsty, as he blinked blearily at HM. His pulse was pounding now and it felt like a herd of elephants were sitting on his chest. "What did he do to you? Face, this looks like...is this...Please, let me be wrong, I can't watch someone else I love die of this! Face, did he tell you what he gave you? Is it _Swoten Un-hele_. Is it the Sweating Sickness?" He managed to nod. "How the HELL did he give you the _Swoten Un-hele_

"H-HM."

"Yeah."

"B-behind." HM dropped his face and back up rapidly, pulling a sword out of his coat. The immortals didn't say anything, simply charged at each other. The clanking of the swords was the way Face kept track of the fight. At first they were in front of him, then he blinked and they were on his right. He struggled to open his eyes after the next blink and they were on his left. His head was swimming so it took him a few second to realize that the reason he seemed to be sinking was that the hook was lowering. He flinched as an arm went around him.

"It's okay, Kid. I've got you."

"Boss?" he lick his lips again. "HM, he's-"

"I know. Let's get you out of here."

"NO!" he struggled as much as he could against the arms holding him. He couldn't leave until he knew HM was safe.

"Face, we need to get you to a Doctor."

"Won't mat-matter." he told Hannibal as his eyes finally focused on the fighters.

McCormack brought his sword up in an overhead cut that HM deflected. He was able to reverse direction of the stroke to bring it around, pushing McCormack's own sword towards his side. HM let go with one hand and punch McCormack. He stumbled back even as HM grabbed his sword arm. Their eyes met for a second, then HM pulled forward. McCormack fell right into the path of HM's sword.

Face followed the head as it made a wet thunk on the ground before rolling into the shadows. The body stayed standing for a seconds after HM let go.

HM walked a few steps away, squared his shoulders, hands tightening on his sword. Face thought it was because his body was burning from the inside out that he saw lightening bolts coming from the body. But when a larger bolt leaped from the body to HM he tried to run to him. Hannibal held him tight. Together they watch as bolt after bolt ran along the ground, destroying boxes, windows, light bulbs, on their way to HM, who stood there, jerking with every strike. When he was surrounded by lightening, he screamed. As if a shock wave came from him, the rest of the windows shattered.

He collapsed to his knees, leaning on his sword for a moment, before hurrying over to them.

Face wasn't too aware of the drive back to Kyleen's cabin. All he knew was HM's hand on his forehead, the cool water pressed to his lips and the words HM was whispering to him in Middle English. He sighed in relief as his clothes were stripped from him. He was also happy that he seemed to have stopped sweating as he was placed in bed. He smelled the rubbing alcohol before it left ice cube trails down his skin. It lingered only seconds before the heat inside of him chased it away.

He didn't know how long it was before the fire seemed to dim and he lifted tired eyes to HM.

"Face?" he lifted his arm, even though it felt like BA was hanging off it, to cup HM's cheek. He ran his thumb along his eyes, chasing away the tears.

"Don't cry. I think it's going to be okay. The heats going away."

"I know it is, but it's not going to be okay. You have to stay awake. The third stage is starting and you _**HAVE**_ to stay away. Please, Face!" he buried his head in the crook of Face's neck, whispering brokenly. "I don't want it to be like this for you! For every time to be like this, to be reminded of this. And I can't-" he lifted his head, cupping his cheek, shaking him awake. "I can't watch you die of the same thing that Alice died of! _**STAY AWAKE**_!" He shook him again.

"Okay" he said sleepily, but even as he said it he knew he was losing the fight. His eyelids felt like they had cement trucks on them. He felt like every sleepless night he's ever had was combined with the exhaustion he'd felt during Ranger Training. As his eyes closed, he saw HM moving to rest his forehead against his. "I love you." he whispered against the pilot's lips. He felt HM's tears fall and trail down his cheeks.

"I love you." HM kissed him. "Sleep."

"You..just...said..."

"I know." the pilot kissed him again, placing his hand on Face's chest. "Just sleep. Everything will be fine when you wake up."

HM sat there for another two minutes until his hand no longer rose and fell with Face's chest and the thump-thump no longer echoed against it from inside.


	22. Chapter 22

HM sat there until the body grew cold. He wiped the remaining traces away with the pad of his thumb. It wouldn't do to let Hannibal and BA see him so distraught. Exiting the room, he closed the door and leaned against it.

"How's Face?" Hannibal asked, jumping up off the couch, where he had been sitting with his elbows on knees. Kyleen stood up as well. "Should we call someone. I'll even risk taking him to a hospital!"

"It doesn't matter now, Bossman." he murmured. However long his life ended up being, HM thought that he would always remember the way that Hannibal froze, eye widening slightly. He blinked and met Murdock's eyes. As always, they understood each other instantly. The former Colonel paled and fell back onto the couch.

"What do you mean 'It don't matter.'" BA asked, struggling to get out of the armchair. "If Face needs help, we need to get him help!" the mechanic's face was closed.

"He's gone, Bosco." HM said softly, leaning against the doorjamb and sliding down. "He's dead. Died of that damn disease." the tears stared again. "I watched him die of it. The same as I did with Colin and Cate and Alice!" he didn't know that Kyleen had came over and dropped to her knees until she pulled him into her arms. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, sobbing into her neck. He was barely aware of Bosco slipping passed him into the room. Hannibal crouched down and squeezed his shoulder before following. "I just sat there and watch," he murmured, "doing nothing, just like with Kara and Craig and Gillian, Bryce, Elsa, Timothy, May, Hale and every person I've loved in the last five hundred years!"

He could have gone on, so many more names he could have listed. But his throat had closed and he just sobbed into Kyleen's neck as their faces flashing through his mind, finally stopping on _His Face_. And that peaceful moment when he closed his eyes. That caused him to pull his head out of the crook of her shoulder.

"He went to sleep." he whispered. "What-What if it wasn't..."

She brought her hand up, silencing him, before wiping away the tears. "It will all work out, Hon. You know it will." she stood, held out her hand to him. "Come on, you know what we need to do."

he nodded, using his arm to wipe away the tears and took her hand. He squeezed it tightly before walking into the kitchen and looking for a large bowl, which he filled with warm water. Kyleen hurried upstairs and came back with a bottle. They took the items into the bedroom, setting the bowl down on the night stand.

"What's that for, Fool?" Bosco asked. Looking up HM saw that the mechanic was kneeling next to the bed, holding Face's hand. Hannibal was standing behind him, hands tight on BA's shoulders. He frowned.

"He was sweating. He hates being sweaty." he blinked at them, before turning to look at Kyleen. With a sigh, she handed him the bottle of waterless shampoo and nodded that she would talk to the other two. He dug through Face's bag looking for his body wash, while she herded them out. He dropped a little into the bowl and shook his hand in it to create a lather, then dipped a washcloth in.

Ringing out the cloth, he picked up Face's hand and started to wash away sweat and dirt. Up the arm, across the collar bone, and down the other arm. Moving back up to the collar bone, he washed the right, then left side of his chest. He quickly did both legs.

There was a thump from the living room and BA started yelling, but he tuned it all out as he re-wet the washcloth. He sat on the bed and stared at Templeton's face. He careful trailed the edge of the cloth along the cheekbones, wiping away sweat and his own tears. Down under the chin, back around, across the forehead, before turning him over and starting again one his back. Once done with that, he pulled out a comfortable pair of pajamas and worked the bottoms on to Face.

He slid in behind the body with the bottle of waterless shampoo, working it into the locks. It wasn't the usual silky shine that Face like, but at least it was clean. He put the pajama top on and arranged Face in the bed.

He could still hear BA arguing in the living room and suddenly felt exhausted. He crawled into bed and slept.


	23. Chapter 23

His eyes slowly fluttered open. The light coming in the window indicated that it was late afternoon. Sitting up, he rolled his neck to get the kinks out, before stretching, wondering why he felt so stiff.

As he moved to the door, he could hear BA yelling.

"You need to do something, Hannibal!" the mechanic said when the door opened. He leaned against the door to listen. "This has gone on long enough. It's one thing to indulge Crazy during normal circumstances, but this is serious!"

"BA," Hannibal raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Murdock and Kyleen both said-"

"I don't care what they said! It's not normal. It's been three days and he's sleeping in there with-with..." the mechanic trailed off, all the fight leaving him. "He's dead, Boss. Murdock's just gotta face it."

"Who's dead?" he asked, confused. Face couldn't think of anyone that HM was that close to that he wouldn't want to deal with their death. And three days? They had just rescued him from McCormack last night. There wasn't any time for HM to get news about someone dying.

Both men turned towards him. Hannibal's mouth dropped open and quickly shut as he blinked. Face thought this was pretty amazing as he had never seen Boss at a loss for words. But BA's reaction had him moving forward.

Bosco's mouth had also dropped open as he went pale, jerking back and falling out of the chair he was sitting in, hand going to his side.

"Bosco, careful, your stitches!" he hurried over to his friend, holding out his hand to help him up, who was staring up at him in shock.

"No, man, no! Not possible!" the big guy said, shaking his head and looking at Hannibal. "NOT POSSIBLE!"

"BA? What's wrong?" he asked, looking at Hannibal as well. "What happe-AAhhhhhhhh" he grabbed his head with both hands and dropped to his knees. His eyes were clenched shut as he suddenly felt like his head was stuck between to industrial dryers.

Hands were in his hair, trying to keep him from tearing chunks out, and a beloved voice was calling his name.

"Face. Face, look at me. I need you to look at me. Take a deep breath and look at me. Please, Facey, just look at me. It'll be fine if you just look at me."

Even with the feeling in his head, he was aware of the role reversal in this situation. So it was with a smile on his face that he raised his eyes and met HM's. He sighed deeply as the whirlwind in his mind receded as he sank into the lovely sea colored eye.

"Better?" he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Most of it was gone, but it was still there in the background. "I know. You'll get use to it." HM took his hands and helped him up. He was deposited on the couch, with HM snuggled in next to him. Hannibal was sitting in the arm chair with a goofy grin on his face.

Bosco was still in the kitchen, expression switching between shock and wary, as if waiting for the punchline of whatever prank they were playing on him. "Not possible. I saw you. You were..."

"Believe us now, BA?" HM asked.

"Believe you about what?" he asked. "What's going on? I thought I would still feel bad after what McCormack gave me? I mean, I feel fine, except for the buzzing my..head...was.." he blinked, looked between the three of them. Hannibal's goofy smile, like something amazing has happened. Bosco's incredulous mutterings, not being able to believe what he sees. And HM's knowing grin.

He tried to think back to the last thing he could remember after McCormack had injected him. The intense cold, then the overwhelming heat and after that faded the knowledge that, if he went to sleep, he probably wouldn't...

Parts of a conversation he had with Kyleen a few days ago drifted through his mind.

i-"my head, a piercing buzzing was filling it. It eased as I looked at Rebecca"-

-"So, you died and didn't know that you would wake up. No different then if someone came in here and shot me, point blank?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, eyes distant. "Just like that.-/i

"I died, didn't I?" he whispered, "I'm-I'm like you." HM nodded.

"I was getting worried. It took three days for you to revive and since you seemed peaceful when you went to sleep, I was afraid that, maybe, you were gone for good."

It took a while for Face's mind to get around the fact that he had died. Apparently for everyone else as well. Hannibal had three days to get use to the idea, yet he still came over and hugged Face a few times. He could only smile and hug back. He knew that Hannibal cared about him, but it was nice to be shown.

BA, though, kept staring at him. Bosco always felt like he was the grounded one of the group and having actually emseen/em Face's dead body, he was having a hard time believing Face was still here.

What really settled it in Face's mind, aside from his head started buzzing again when Kyleen came home, was when he was shaving that night. His arms felt a little tired, Kyleen and HM had taking him down to the basement. One side of the large space held shelving, holding a myriad of items. The rest of the space was devoted to a gym. Displayed along the far wall were swords. All different kinds and shapes that Kyleen had him try, hacking at a practice dummy she had set up, while she and HM discussed which one worked better with his swing.

They had settled on a Walloon sword for its versatility: it was light, flexible, and good for both cutting and thrusting as well as the more accurate pointwork required in duels. At least that's what they told him, before making him swing it in different way for the next three hours.

But now when everybody else was asleep and he was staring in the mirror after a long, hot shower. His hand was held in the air as he watched the drop of blood trickle down his throat. The cut that it had come from was long gone. He had felt the prick and pulled the razor away, watching as the cut fades away with a slight tingle.

He swallowed as the blood drop reached his collarbone and finished shaving. He quietly entered the bedroom where HM was leaning against the headboard, reading. He watched for a little while until HM looked at him with an inviting grin.


	24. Chapter 24

HM put the book aside as he slid in and pulled the covers over them. The pilot curled around him, his hand running up and down Face's chest.

"Kyleen was able to get her Jeep out of Police impound today."

"Okay." he said, confused.

"Yeah, she was able to give me something she found inside." His hand reached under the pillow and pulled out a tube. Holding onto the cap he swung it back and forth. "I told you something when you went to get this. Now it's been three extra days and I still have a Quickening trying to settle." He threw the covers off them and shucked his shirt before straddling Face. Leaning down HM attacked his neck, kissing, nipping and sucking on it. Face gasped and bucked up under him, trying to find friction for his suddenly painfully hard erection. HM sat back up, smirking at him. He shifted on his knees and rocked back and forth.

Face groaned and tried to grasp his hips. The pilot let him ground against him for a moment before he leaned forward and nip his left nipple. His grip loosened and HM took his hands and placed them against the headboard. He laved at the hurt nipple before going to the other one. Working his way down, he slipped his hands into Face's boxers, slipping around to cup his ass.

He removed the boxer, shooting a look at Face as he took a hand off the headboard. He placed it back, grabbing on tight and letting out a yelp as HM swallowed him whole. His throat muscles worked once, before he slowly pulled up. He heard to cap of the flip open as HM leaned over him, pressing there lips together. Face gasped as the cold gel touched his entrance and HM used the gasp to thrust his tongue into Face's mouth.

Face's tongue came out to meet it immediately. His hand left the headboard and sunk into his hair, holding him close, but HM pulled out of the kiss.

"Put it back, Face!" on his name, HM thrust his finger inside.

"Oh, FUCK, HM!" he moved his hips, trying to get more of it inside.

"Not until you put your hand back. Or should I get some restraints? I wanted to hold off on them for a little while."

Face extricated his hand from his hair and once again grasped the headboard. The pilot kissed him, mouth moving against his as his fingers circled deeper inside. His hips were meeting the thrusts of HM's hand. He had moved up to two already and was slowly sliding the third one in. it's entrance caused the nail of one of the others to graze Face's prostate.

Face arched, pulled on the headboard, and keened. He met HM's eyes briefly before closing his at the smirk HM was wearing.

"Oh, there it is." he murmured, lifting off of Face and rearranging him so that one of Face's legs was over his shoulder. This gave him better control to make sure the his fingers never made firm contact with the gland, always just ghosting across it.

"Please, HM, Please, now!" he begged and that seemed to be what HM wanted. He withdrew his fingers and slicked up his own weeping erection. He sat on his knees, Face's thighs on either side and slid in.

"Templeton." he breathed, leaning down to kiss him, as he started rocking.

"Please, please now," Face begged as the thrusts got faster. "Please, need you. Need to touch. Need you here. Here with me. Please!"

"Do it." HM whispered, moving to his neck, nipping and sucking. Face's hands released the headboard and flew to HM's shoulder, where they nearly clawed him as a thrust hit him just right inside. They roamed freely across the pilot's back as the sensations built inside them both. Face placed his feet on the bed as they traveled down and grasped HM's ass, pulling him in as he thrust up to meet him.

Both men were gasping now, between kisses. Face knew he was close. The friction of HM's stomach against his cock was enough to set him off, but now he was hitting his prostate with ever thrust. They were together. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, and lips to lips. He was so close and he wanted HM there with him.

_ "Ik Druerie Yow, Hamish."_ he whispered. HM groaned and sealed their mouths together as his eyes rolled back in release. Face could feel it, deep inside him, and he let go.

Face sighed in contentment as HM's weight settled against him. The pilot had left briefly to retrieve a hand towel from the nightstand. After being used, it was thrown aside and the covers were pulled back up.

"This what it's going to be like from now on?" he asked, "Cause I could get use to this."

"Yeah," HM said sleepily. "For as long as you want."

"What does that mean?"

HM shrugged, eyes heavy. "Do you think you can stand to be with me for long? Some immortal couples only stay together for, I don't know, fifty years, at a time."

"That's not what I want."

"Oh, do you want forever?" HM asked playfully.

"No," Face said, shaking his head. He cupped HM's cheek at the flash of hurt in his eyes. "That's no long enough, but if that's what you're offering, I'll take it."


	25. Chapter 25

This will be the translations of all the Middle English used in the story.

Ch. 1 _"Hon? Whennes yow hir?"_

Hon? Why are you here?

Ch. 5 _"Hon." Kyleen sighed. Murdock walked over to the table, grasped the back of a chair. "He showed up about a week ago, looking."_

_ "Yow Sceolde talde mi!"_

_ "Hou! Yow Sowdyowre! Yow nae Eað Finden."_

_ "Ich Se A-rowe. Yow caana Fecht Bikeren!" Murdock picked up the chair and slammed it down, before turning on his heel. Kyleen slammed her cup down as well and stood up._

_ "Hamish Marion Murdock!" she yelled, voice taking on a thick Scottish accent. "Ná ye siúil teith dé mé!" _

"_Stenten Bi-leden Faunt!" he yelled, stopping at the door. _

"Hon." Kyleen sighed. Murdock walked over to the table, grasped the back of a chair. "He showed up about a week ago, looking."

"You should have told me!"

"How! You're a mercenary! You're not easy to find."

"It's my fight. You can't fight my battles!" Murdock picked up the chair and slammed it down, before turning on his heel. Kyleen slammed her cup down as well and stood up.

"Hamish Marion Murdock!" she yelled, voice taking on a thick Scottish accent. "Don't you walk away from me!" (this line is actually Scottish Gaelic.)

"Stop treating my like a child!" he yelled, stopping at the door.

Ch. 9 "_Yow Finden Hine? Hine Fere?"_

"You find him? He alright?

Ch. 14 _"Ik Druerie Yow, Leor, Swa Muchel." he whispered __against__ Face's lips. "Leuere panne Ik Eure Pank Ik Couthe. Ik Con Naht Witen __To-comen Wit Yow. I-cnowen Wat Hit Es Ilich Felen Yow Undere Mi."_

(Murdock's being racy here) I love you, Face, So much." he whispered against Face's lips. "More then I ever thought I could. I can't with to make love with you. To know what it's like to feel you under me."

I think everything else is translated in the story. The site I used is _A CONCISE DICTIONARY OF MIDDLE-ENGLISH at __.__. _I piecemealed the sentences together by looking for the words I wanted to use


End file.
